The girl in the blue Gi.
The pretty one with the black belt.
She’ll never see what I see,
She’ll never know what I felt.

Where doth my heart best lie?
Between manhood and respect.
I am torn.
A fool fights for that which needeth no protection,
Even the most delicate rose hath thorn.

She Athena needeth no male army,
fighting bash and gratuitously.
runs through my mind persistently,
a more humble feminist view it must be.
Or that of a coward.

Drawing swords with my manhood.
conflicting with the logic I do think.
Acting honourably, protecting the woman,
Accrediting my upbringing or my instinct.

She that is open to war as I,
And the ability to make bones rattle,
She that does not fear to die,
Shall be my equal sister in battle.
And so I do not need to protect said woman.
For she is not weak, nor vulnerable lover of mine own.
Nevertheless I shall guard her as a brother,
Acting saint Christopher until she is safely home.

The End

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