Be As Strong And Beautiful As Atlas Man Poem by Mark Heathcote

Would an expression of love of beauty hold your gaze?
Longer than a man's deformity, desperately trying to walk.
Legs low standing, deckchair-like buckling with the weight above
moving independently ever so slowly as if he's openly
defying the gravity of the entire world combined with every step.
Each step, a feat of immense courage, clasping onto thin air.

Would that expression of love of beauty hold your gaze?
All together differently, you can be honest here? Sure-
we all see things differently; if she was a young dark-haired girl
in her mid-twenties, with a mystical stare gawping into your soul
wouldn't your knees tremble, and wouldn't you mumble
some flattering pleasantries, hoping will somehow impress.

Would that were that man, where would you hang your gaze
would each look feel sly like some importune presence?
Pressing further weight upon his sloth-like limbs,
or would admiration for him lends some additional bouncy.
Yes, every gaze is proportion differently, isn't that why-
we should admire our strengths, beauty and all fragilities equally.