Martial Arts

This place is filled with blood, sweat, and tears. Bang! As a person rear kicks a heavy weight bag. Blasts of up beat music make the walls shake.

Here you come walking in, curve of the back, arms shrugged, yet you think you own the place. Your baggy sweat shorts hang just enough so everyone can see your "eye popping, jaw dropping" boxers!

You look at me with disgust. A girl like me couldn't possibly belong in a sport like this, right? Wrong! Your talk is louder than your punch. You last one or two months, it's not what you see when you watch UFC. You may be a bad ass on the black cemented parking lot, but on these mats, it's an art you can't seem to grasp.

And now you're gone, all in the past. Awaiting the next one to walk through the doors wanting to be the next Silva. Will they last longer than you? This sport will kill ya.