This poem is a focus on the Future.

It is only satisfied with your time and your blood.

 

Your time and your blood is questioned.

The haze of the practice hangs in the head.

 

The last practice wasn’t bad, only tiring.

The muscle fatigue lasts for days.

 

Even though they say the muscle fatigue will go away.

The choices of the future weigh on my head.

 

My partner shifts his weight to my head.

The self-questioning never ends.

 

The laps around the mat feel like they will never end.

Is this how it is for everyone?

 

How is it on the other side?

This poem is a focus on the Future.