![door-image](http://lifeofadyingpoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Entry-1024x306.jpg)
I’m the man that dies,
at the end of the movie.
That proves all men,
go big or go broke.
In the dawn of our kind,
we have been condemned,
for what we think is wrong and right.
Not to stop to think,
if it is nessessary.
I’m the man that kills,
in the middle of the novel.
In which you first thought,
I was the belle of the ball.
It an ugly thing to be,
rooting for the wrong team,
but by the end you realize,
it was for the right reasons.
I’m the man behind the mask,
at the beginning of the story.
Which makes you think you want,
a life like mine.
It just turns out I’m afflicted,
by the worst of the illness,
which makes me a dangerous man.
I’m the man in the center,
of the topic of the poem.
In which you stop to think,
if we should write ourselves to death.
It’s a dog eat dog world,
and your life becomes unnoticed,
unless if you die without recognition.