The Punching bag
These days I feel like a punching bag; life is Muhammad Ali if I dare use clay to mold myself, it takes a swing at me.
It seems the closer I get to the final round the more jabs I receive; leaving me like a tripod, trynna stand on two legs.
I swear I just wanna find my way across this ring; but if I dare stray far from these rops an uppercut might just introduce me to gravity.
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