The champ
By Fistman



as she enters the arena, the crowd stands silent,
as she dances up the aisle, her opponent stands still.
as she steps into the ring, the world sits watching,
as she slips off her red robe, her presence dominates..
as she warms up by dancing, the men are fearing,
as the fighters touch their gloves, her muscles tense up.
as they come out of their corners, her eyes on fire,
as she wails into his body, he feels the pain.
as she dodges his strong punches, her hair goes flying,
as she sticks him with her jab, he feels the sting.
as she follows with her left, he sees it coming,
the world watches it connect, and sees him fall.
as he struggles to his feet, she knows she has him,
as he gathers up his wits, he is afraid.
as she charges cross the ring, her breasts are screaming,
as she's hit with a stiff right, she takes his best.
now a right and then a left, that leave him bloody,
now a hook and now a jab, that leave him stunned.
he can't take much more of her, she is the better,
as she connects with a finisher, his head snaps back.
he is draped around the ropes, and barely standing,
she lands one last blow, and the ref steps in.
as the ref raises her hand, she grabs the belt,
she is the first and not the last, to be a champ.


by FistMan