When I listen carefully to the lyrics, I am forced to wonder: What is my Fight Song? Do I have one? The answer that my mind provides is the most obvious. 

I don't. 

I never was a singer. After several failed attempts of mimicking Taylor Swift, I buried that aspect of my personality real deep. Beyond excavation. Not that I was bad, I certainly wasn't. But you can't expect yourself to be good at everything. Just like my obsession for sketching. I am not bad there, either. In fact, I'm better than most. But not really good like I am at writing—the writing that I never post online—and my poetry—which I also don't. 

The point being, I may not have a fight song, literally. But I do have a fight song in another form. It is my ridiculous determination. I think. My never-ending perseverance. No matter what happens, I don't give up. I will have done so on the day I choose to die. Which will never come. 

I am living the life of an...outcast. There was a time when public ridicule used to send shivers down my spine. Now, I've grown well-accustomed to it. In the end of a bad situation, what matters is whether you successfully didn't react. If you did, then you lost. 

The horrors society can inflict upon a person can be really overwhelming. People like me must never let those horrors get the best of us. If you have capabilities, you are bound to benefit from them, no matter how people make you feel. The feelings are only temporary. We must wait for the moment where we can employ those capabilities. Once we have, there is no stopping us. 

So, I sing my Fight Song every day. In the poetry I write. By not giving up. By living, every single day when most others—if forced to put on my boots—might give up too early. Will give up.

I do have a Fight Song.