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    “how did McDavid handle it when the judge said 19?” a Poem by Eric King

      This is a feeling you can’t escape its an empty loneliness, I know it me by myself despite a strong team back in the boxing ring keep hoping that i’ll wake from this how did McDavid handle it when the judge said 19? This is fear I can feel it eating through my stomach like a starving lion lurking I float in the warm blood below that puddles beneath my cold carcass nothing I have to say, sadly is worth the struggle for a last breath when all there is to eat is poisonous plants do you skip a meal or go for broke? Vomiting up the last of my hopes torn between defiance…