Hands.

[from zero]

As I lower it down again, and release my grip, I notice something. An odd pain. Odd, but all too familiar. I look down at my hands, only to see the skin torn off in a few places, where tough calluses used to lie. Most are still there, though wounded. Wounded metaphorically, as their fallen comrades left behind hollow graves. Wounded physically from battle. An ongoing struggle for victory. The discolored contusions, although painful, allow for a smile to come across my face. Why? Wounds will heal, and will live to deadlift again, and will see victory ... again.

 

[longarms]

Yeah!! Aren't we all poetic tonight??

I lost 2 callouses on monday! You got it dead on, Bro!!

 

[Sub-Zero]

are you a writer?

 

[jackangel]

i think revlonrevlon just creamed himself.

 

[longarms]

i think revlonrevlon just creamed himself.

 

[IronLion]

i think revlonrevlon just creamed himself.

why do you have to hate on exlaxexlax?

I have never torn a calous off while lifting, nor have I puked, had a blood vessel burst in my eye, had a nose bleed, had a cramp, or shit myself...I need to train harder

 

[longarms]

I bet you've never been drunk enought to puke either, right?

 

[IronLion]

uh no I puke half the time I drink...lol

 

[WalkingBeast]

why do you have to hate on exlaxexlax?

I have never torn a calous off while lifting, nor have I puked, had a blood vessel burst in my eye, had a nose bleed, had a cramp, or shit myself...I need to train harder

You humble bastard!!!!!