Though I Leave An Honest Legacy Poem by James Whitworth

As Atlas shrugs to tilt our little ball,
His muscle, like courage, strengthened by use,
We are taught that with the surest footing
One man can with one promise move the earth.
It is with such revelation that I,
Akin the silent mouth, confess no word
Of recognition for the soundless call
Which strikes in common the solitary man.
Since never was there a means of carriage
To transport what he in this life accrues,
And though I leave an honest legacy,
I begrudge the death for which I was born.