Poor Man's Soul

I'll tell you a story of worry and woe,
The tragic events of a poor man's soul.

He wasn't rich,
But depressed he was plenty.
Full of bitter words
Of destiny.

Fed, he was, by the anger of guilt
Covered up by the
Deception of gild.

Housed by mankind,
Locked away in a tower so high.
Careful not to jump out of the window there,
For the fee of suicide was too great.
How unfair.

Traveled by train,
But had no where to go.
Still, the track noise was faint
In his ears.

Black bird high over head
He reaches up.
But it feels like
His arms are made of lead.

Weighed down by the extra
Baggage of life.
One simple thought
Was thought to suffice.