What Of Mine Poem by Ardiente Antonio

History arches the memories of time. What of mine?
Conflicted between wanting and having no desire for a legacy. Whenever may it come in handy?
Be it famous or infamous, what will it matter to the people of today? When will it ever matter what I have done on Friday?
A pity a person's hard work is usually noticed after their death. But what of mine?
Will all these notes be beneath someone greater than that of I? I have no fear of being forgotten, but it truly troubles me.
Without status, these people push you down to raise themselves up the current of pride. And for some twisted reason, I envy their ride.
They have a right to act like that, It is all choice in the end. I just hope they remember that I was I and nothing more out of line.
But the thought continues to eat at me. This history that I forge alone. What of mine will go untold?