At last we meet again,
You bested me the last time and stole a win...
However real champions fight forever,
So never Could I ever surrender and just let you be better.
Nose to nose
Anything goes
Defeat is not an option.....this time.....
For me
Touch gloves.
Round three.
Que the music as We dance around the ring,
Our synchronized movements create quite the scene.
We jostle back and forth each of us waiting to attack,
But I know patience is a must to ensure I don’t end up on my back,
With your ice cold fingers around my throat like all the times before,
All words in
No words out
as I lie sprawled out on the floor.
This time I snuck in with a flow in my left Hand and a rhyme in my right.
Both lethal enough to put writers block to bed tonight.
You’ve had your run but now I must rise up,
I guess whiskey really is the poetic version of mikes secret stuff.