I paid my pocket to see the Coliseum
But I’m not made for this heat.
When the horizon has a wavy glaze
And the city skyline sizzles and evaporates
Upwards into the clear sky,
I draw the line and stay inside
As the sun grills the Basilica gold
Like cheese on toast.
I know the brave gladiators fought outside in the heat
Those years ago,
Bare chests, bare feet,
For their lives, for their freedom,
For their kings and queens and kingdom,
But I need to stand in the frozen food aisle,
Just for a little while.
great poem
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Thank you!
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welcome
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