“Hundred,” he boasts,
As he puffs his chest.
Proudly he stands,
As he dusts his hands.
“Your turn,” he says,
As his eyes gleam.
I take one deep breath,
Myself, I motivate.
My lazy brain, I ignore,
As I kneel on the floor.
My palms meet the cold,
Plank position, I hold.
“Go,” he says, full of encouragement,
His eyes sparkling with excitement.
I lower my chest to meet the floor,
And my hands are already sore,
Oh, damn floor!
Why are you so far?
I don’t have much power,
I really can’t go lower.
“One,” he says as I finally make it.
Another one, I can’t take it.
“Just one more,” he encourages.
My face scrunches,
As I try to muster the power,
And push my chest lower.
But then I hit the floor,
That’s how it goes, push-ups with bro.
Find me on Insta: Wild Scared Crazy
