Even though I'm only twenty-seven years old, my hair has turned gray.
I was beaten by a boxer who weighs 107 pounds, I've seen better days.
He's only seventeen years old and his name is little Mac.
When it was over, he won by a TKO and I was lying on my back.
I weigh 135 more pounds than him and I'm twice as tall.
I didn't bet some of my money on me to win, I bet it all.
I live in a cardboard box because I'm completely broke.
I lost my title to a little boy and now I've become a joke.
He looks easy to beat but believe me when I say he's not.
I chose to fight him and an ass whipping was what I got.
I thought that beating him would be very easy but I was such a fool.
In addition to beating me, he beat ten others, one of which was Bald Bull.
Being defeated made Bald Bull rip his hair out and that's why he's bald.
He also lost all of his money and now pansies are what we're being called.
When it came to boxing, I thought I knew it all but I don't know jack.
If you're a boxer who wants to keep his title, stay away from Little Mac.
(This poem was inspired by "Mike Tyson's Punch-Out" which was manufactured by Nintendo.)