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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1868848
I used to wrestle for a small company in Bangor n/Ireland, I miss those days.
The roar of the crowd,
The slap and the sting,
It's all going on In the wrestling ring.

A wink and a smile,
The heel and the saint,
Please don't forget your warrior paint.

The smell of the canvas fills up your nose,
The female wrestler strikes her pose,
"I'll bend you then and break you"
Is her battle cry,
But please little children
This do not try.

The sting of the ropes hitting your back,
Now it is your turn to attack.
I long to be back there and here the crowd sing
We love the opera of a wrestling ring.
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