Seriously maddoggin you eye to eye, I joke this to you from the bottom of my gut—
I fight by putting my face forward so you can strike me right on the kisser.
With this as my fight plan, is there any way I can win?
I will die, and no strategy will change that.
Hit me with your best shot, and I will spit up blood that proves my life and whups your rules.
In the ring of life, I am a clown who break dances on the canvas.
I laugh loud.
You don’t even know how to challenge me, so you punish me, the target of your rules and laws.
I don’t defend myself with punches of proof. My fists are my experiences and sheer existence, and that is all I need against you cause you don’t even exist.
With black eyes, I laugh at logic as it counts me out:
Amor and nothing else!