Wrestling

I wrote this poem for my friend bryan because his life was dedicated to wrestling
.................................................

He threw himself into the ring
He felt the sharp sting
He heard the bone crack
And felt the skin tear with no lack
He heard to moans from the crown around
And he heard the coach scream as his head hit the ground
He saw this to be his last
But as he moved to the future back from the past
I am the nightmare
And its the same day and the same person still doesnt care
I shake his hand and there blows the whistle
A few moments later all goes black
On now my past is back
Then there’s the light
I open my eyes
To see the next waking prize
Hes on the ground
I hear the cheers I hear the sounds
Victory was won
The match is done
And I take the pride
While hes the poor man who is now for fried