Gage is thrown down the colosseum,
And their faith are scrawl with glum,
The innocuous minds of the gladiators,
Were portent of the danger that is about to come.
The swords have the glare of brightness,
The sandals making a distinct thrum,
The armors displaying marks of past jostles,
The eyes have no signs of glum.
We all are like the gladiators,
Fighting our battles every day,
Thrown to the life’s ring,
tasked to fly without wings.
Treasure your scars,
Stand up when you hit the wall,
You are bound to rise,
Don’t let your hopes fall.
Copyright © Shantanu Baruah
Confab With Me 
This is fabulous… and powerful ❤️
Beautiful and inspiring! 👏
Thank you so much, Mahee
Thank you so much
Powerpacked strong words. Great poem😊
😊🌺
Amazing. Intense and beautiful. 😊
Thank you so much
Thank you so much, Anne
My pleasure always! 🙂
😊🌸
Such great words you used in this poem, great writing! 🙂
Thank you so much for your kind read
Great post and love the picture!
My pleasure 😊🌸
Lovely and inspiring. 🌸😊
Thank you so much. The picture is ground zero in NYC
Nice
😊🌸
Holding on to hope.
This is amazing…
This poem is truly magnificent! I love the amphitheater and its gladiators metaphor for overcoming personal battles and treasuring scars they procure.
True my friend. Thanks for your comment
Thank you so much, Jaya
Thank you so much for your kind comment, Anastasia. You have a lovely name
Thank you very much!!
My pleasure
Mmmm. This spoke to me on a personal level, friend. Life can be and at it’s core, is, a battle. As you put it, we must treasure that which we take away from it, both from victory and from defeat.
Thank you so much. I am glad you could connect with my words. 🌸😊