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Got this idea from Victory. NOTE: There may now be more than one poem per tabber.

AnxietyEdit

It's gonna be me.

It's gonna be me.

It'S gOnNa Be Me...

BreathEdit

Inhale up.

Exhale down.

Tips of toes.

Flat of feet.

Open your stance.

Wave your hands.

Keep breathing.

Keep breathing.

You'll need it.

Exhaustion.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Cool air rushing into you.

Thank God for air conditioning.

Air revitalizes. Air heals. Air rebirths.


CreatingEdit

A technique flows from my mind like the rhymes I love.

Fast

As a rap

Which is what I'm doing in my head.

I just need to keep my cool for this.

Let the moves come.

Left cobra coming.

Right rotation to meet it.

Right combat coming.

Elbow drop or

Leg block saves the day!

Can't block that one.

Duck!

Whew.

Low circle coming

Shaolin body evasion technique!

Success!

DefeatEdit

I'm done.

That's it.

Hit

My limit.

My legs are spasming.

My arms hurt.

I know he's laughing.

Just shut up.

Just shut up.

Ten is enough.

Six was enough.

I can't stand up.

I can't stand.

I can't.

Yet I do.

EnergyEdit

It's something to cherish.

Something to save.

Something rarely had.

Something built.

Something depletable.

Something renewable.

Something to waste.

Something to use.

Something to heal.

Something never gained.

Something always there.

Something needed.

FeelingEdit

Feelings are rare here.

I'm analyzing now.

Everything in the area is

Mine to see

Control

Focus, Ender.

Don't let her take the leg

Get the arm

Use the momentum.

Use hers!

There!

Triumph.

Focus, [......]

1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Ten more to go.

Counting now, trying not to feel.

All I feel is hatred for the one that makes us do this.

Well, not hatred.

Anger.

I am angry and strong.

GrandmasterEdit

The minute he enters the room, the back line turns and bows.

We remember who he is, even if the lower ranks can't

Don't

Won't.

We are the elders,

He is the master.

They are the grasshoppers, too new to know him as we do.

We have seen him destroy another man's technique before the other could move.

No one in this room could hold a candle to him, let alone a challenge.

We respect him.

He trains us.

We are his to teach and decide.

HatredEdit

Well, not hatred.

Not the hatred that blooms from race or gender or politics.

The kind that comes from an anger allowed to burn unchecked for too long.

From one that was never quenched.

From anger to vendetta.

From contempt to the endless repetition of mantras.

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate easily

But when I do, get out of my way.

InjuryEdit

Can be used against you.

Never an asset.

Always a hindrance.

Sprained wrist twisted behind my back. (Good sparring partners don't do this, kids.)

Twisted ankle prey to another ten burpees.

Knuckles raw from repeated punches.

Doesn't matter, just some street cred.

However, no matter what,

Don't let it happen.

JumpEdit

Here it comes.

Swings dow-w-w-wn, there we go, right at the right time.

OK, you ducked, right? Now focus on your feet.

Don't let him mix it up on you again.

Use that momentum.

You are a coiled spring!

Legs extend. Feet coil up.

Yesss.

KickEdit

Shinbone.

Put your hip into it.

Kick like you have no feet.

This is a finisher, for the sake of darkness!

Heel thrust.

Keep it steady.

Get some power there.

Oh, that is not the way your ankle should go.

Snap kick.

Old favorite, this one.

Quick strike to the groin.

Get away while you still can.

Backkick.

Square up,

2 seconds to plan.

YOU WILL NOT FALL.

LengthEdit

This.

Is.

Taking.

Forever.

Hurry up, kids next to me.

Stop messing around, gold sashes.

KID! I SWEAR, IF YOU HIT YOUR HEAD ON THAT BAG ONE MORE TIME, I will be so mad.

They waste so much time.

Some of us care.

Some of us want to work.

Some of us want to improve.

And they're in our way.

So we train on, in the back, while the younger kids mess around.

No respect.

=Master vs. MasteryEdit

Master.

Mastery.

These words have two different meanings entirely.

Master is a rank, a symbol, a label.

Five stars, five chevrons, blazing on black.

Sometimes more, but no title higher.

Not as long as Grandmaster has anything to say about it.

But mastery.

This word is entirely different.

Mastery is perfection, is a technique perfectly trained.

Mastery is five twirls, not three.

Mastery is adding more to a form.

Mastery is a twenty-foot gain.

Mastery doesn't care about rank.

Master is a good throw, mastery is a throw that makes your mind click.

Master tells, mastery teaches.

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