Sore Loser
They only find their voice
After the scoreboard buries them
Clawing at the rulebook like a wounded animal
Pretending the world cheated
Instead of admitting they lost
They protest with trembling pride
Poking holes in reality like a hobby
As if outrage can drown failure
If only tantrums were trophies
Denial would be a sport they dominate
If they had won
They be would dancing in celebration
Toasting themselves as legends
Never once questioning the rules
They now swear were rigged
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