Hod Putt by Edgar Lee Masters — Read

Here I lie close to the grave / Of Old Bill Piersol, / Who grew rich trading with the Indians, and who / Afterwards took the bankrupt law / And emerged from it richer than ever / Myself grown tired of toil and poverty / And beholding how Old Bill and other grew in wealth / Robbed a traveler one night near Proctor's Grove, / Killing him unwittingly while doing so, / For which I was tried and hanged.

That was my way of going into bankruptcy.

Now we who took the bankrupt law in our respective ways / Sleep peacefully side by side.