Atlas

I'm a beast of burden
A king with no fiefdom
Or even a kingdom
To speak of for certain
No reason for me to be throned
But stoned for poor prose
And left where the crows
Can pick clean my bones
Cause God knows that's what the meat is for
And no metaphor is needed to see the score
But I'll be feeble no more
I wont be left to rot nor fester
To be cast as a leper
And I'm not your fucking jester
I refuse to juggle
Or muddle through the ruse
Of subtle coos and my rebuttals
So step through your own damn puddles
Raise the scuttle and I'll skitter
like a bug when the weight is lifted
So to say I'm gifted
Is like saying praise is for the prey who made no difference
But you can still taste the sweat
In every painstaking keystroke
And when the levee breaks they won't say he made it,
They'll only say he's broke
A joker with a poker face so stoic he could have posed
As Atlas in a smaller scope
Cause a globe that size would crush an average man
Let alone an artisan of choke