I've always been a sore loser,
Not a better winner either.
I'm lazy, and I'm stupid.
I have no motivation to walk,
And I have no drive to crawl.
A nobody who doesn't eat or sleep,
A nobody who glides through the wind like a feather.
But that's not me.
The real me is on that mat—
Grinding teeth again and again,
Fighting to get up,
Someone who'd walk,
Someone who will crawl.
Always a smile on that guy's face,
No matter what blows hit him,
He enjoys it.
He takes the good with the bad.
They get antsy when they're not moving,
They get nervous when they're still.
That's me.
And that me is happy there,
For he knows—
Win or lose,
For just a moment,
All eyes are on him.
And he's no longer a nobody.