Out flows the blood,
pouring like a damn flood.
I clutch my side,
refusing to be undignified.
My eyes won't flinch,
nor move an inch.
I glare at my rival,
a rebel form of survival.
I continue to harass,
until he mumbles "Kiss my ass"
His jaw cracks,
from the blow of my fist,
when the moment is it's quietist.
He and the earth collide,
leaving me close to satisfied.
I steal off to give his tires a slash,
when I remember my crimson gash.
I pause,
as a couple of adults rave,
of how kids now days misbehave.
They threaten to call the cops,
so I split for the bar, Pop's.