Maya Shen/Staff

ight, left right.

Time to rage

Time to fight


Left hook, duck and hold.

Until your rage

Righteous, doth unfold


Right hook, cross and swing.

Don’t listen to them

No not a thing


Duck, duck, uppercut.

Through the wreckage

And through the glut


Right, left, jab, jab.

Every word a cut

Every glance a stab


Hook, cross, love, hate.

You’ve been broken

It’s no debate


Uppercut, jab, right right.

But don’t they see

It makes you fight?


Cross, duck, duck cross.

You’re hands are bleeding,

But pain’s no loss


Left, left, duck, down.

Every strike hurts more

But you’ll still pound


Right, left, right, right.

Your fingers ache

And your muscles, tight


Final punch, knockout blow

And though your body is hurting so

And your mind’s a warzone

And all your bombs have blown,

Though self-hatred bubbles between your bones,

and though they strike you with these stones,

and though the sorrow black and tarry,

Clouds a vision that once was starry,

And though it pulls energy from your back

and sneers when it hears your knuckles crack —

Yes, though it seeks to consume your heart,

and though yes, it has taken some part,

You will rage, yes, rage against

The injustices that they dispensed

Against the hatred you feel clearer

Every time you glance in a mirror.

Yes, you will rage, rage for those

Whose empathy already froze

Who seek to rend and tear you apart,

Who make it into an act of art

To rearrange your broken pieces,

So this torment never ceases.


Yes, see now how you ever rage,

You will never stay inside this cage.

For your anger and bloody hands

Refuse all of their hateful demands.


Right, left, right, hook.

You’ll never get back what they took.


Jab, left, jab, knee.

But this is what they better see.


Left, hook, strike in major.

You’re a mother fucking force of nature.

Contact Olivia Staser at [email protected].

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