Today I saw a man dressed in black who stared through my soul
With his black bowler hat, he was a perfect portrait of dystopia
Wearing a bold black overcoat to shadow his feared face
He ferociously paced past me with such an urgency
I suppose he was making me believe his seeds were sown
Truly his work was completed, but when he possessed my mind
It began oddly, as I begun pondering of him from out of blackness
His status, His commitment, His caged rage, His frozen fingers
How he doesn't walk with a cane even though he cringes in pain
I watched as he limply walked to the exit, slowly in pace...alone
This man and his graying demeanor have only grown to decay
And to think I ever imagined his scholarly status was a bluff
The man covered in black is a mystery to me
Now I stand as a still stone, petrified from seeing my death
Walking to the exit...alone
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