I always loved the Underdog. The unloved one. Not cheered for one. Neglected one. Against the society one.

Or sometimes just the victim of their own choices one, who covers their shortcomings behind the system failures.
But I still love him.

I always loved the Underdog. The deformed one. Brash one. Neglecting one. Against the world one.

Or sometimes just the victim of their own background one, who covers their shortcomings behind the manic desperation. But I still love him.

I always loved the Underdog. The hasty one. Misunderstood one. Short-tempered one. Against the system one.

Or sometimes the victim of my own misbehaviour, who covers my bruises behind the disguise of steep staircase.
But I still love him.

Because if I did not love the Underdog, who will love me?