Carrying the burden of the globe
on his shoulders
Placed unevenly
between the blades
Neck bent low
from the burgeoning number
of the ingrates who regard him
nothing more than a myth
No elegy will be read
on his passing away
No plot of land reserved
for his burial
on the planet that he carried
from before the birth of time
The lament of "Alas" gets away
with more attention and respect
than the labour of "Atlas"
with an extra t in the wrong place
So much for the regret of carrying
the weight of the planet
from before the dawn of knowledge
and long after the fall
of the night of ignorance
No wonder,
lament makes away with
a higher paycheck
than labour silent
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