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The armor of wrestling
The new wrestler is the chunk of iron,
Raw unmolded and far from awe inspiring,
The wrestling room is the forge,
Into which the iron is thrust,
To weaken and become malleable,
The coach is both the unwavering anvil,
And the unrelenting hammer,
Bending the iron to their will,
Always shaping and changing the iron,
To turn it into the perfect armor,
Strong, resilient, hard working, unbending,
But always battered,
And just like a piece of armor,
no matter how much abuse they take,
Wrestlers never give in, and never give up.

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I wrote this in english class as an extended metaphor peom assignment