A False Noble

There was a man
He was not known
Worked day and night
And lived alone
This man knew few
And less of them
They met so rare
And made him despair

This man has goals
And he carries forth
No luck with them
But he still tries
Until one day
It took a toll
His soul, hollow
Like his pockets

So he worked and worked
Thought of something new
To get back to better
And to feel good anew
He spoke more to few
Learned more from them too
And his wallet grew
For his new passion

As much as he tried
He could not do well
The few had their ways
None that crossed with his
They were not rude though
They thought he was good
But he could not tell
He was trying anew

His hobby he mastered
But a master he wasn’t
The days kept on fading
So did his own image
Inside, he would not cry
There was no one to see
And no one to comfort
His contained tragedy

His name would be mixed up
By others around him
Yet the few still knew it
From left up to the right
No one he could decry
For this fault was not theirs
And he strived still to find
How he could be more known

Idea after ‘nother
Nothing would work out for him
He pondered an awful thought
Every day that did not work
Work was no longer awful
The few were never constant
No one knew what was inside
That trouble head of the man

The awful thought grew stronger
And his character weakened
What even was his character?
At this point he did not know
What he did now was an alley
Pitch black and terrifying
Which he visited that night
To put his thought to its use

The day after that, he knew his deed
It tore him apart for three days
He saw the error outside work
Whimpering from the police house
No longer could he suppress it
He admitted his gruesome act
The media in a frenzy
Followed suit to hear from this man

But he would say not a word
He didn’t deserve one
Not to the media
Not to the judge
All but his verdict
Which was “guilty”
And one request
From the system

All he would ask
After doing his deed
Is to be alone
In a white room
Food and water
No other thing
Nothing but him
A false noble