Gladiator Poem by Gregory Corban Jr.

The crowd roars, like a mighty wind.
Countless weaker warriors, frightened.

Towering men, pit against each other.
Fathers take on son, brother on brother.

Spears blaring, swords radiant.
Winners given help, losers needing it.

Makeshift weapons, fashioned.
Numerous skulls, bashed in.

Serpentine trails of blood everywhere.
Unlike the crowd, the arena filled with despair.

The crowd cheers again, like an old radiator.
This is what is means to be a Gladiator.