even still, he returns to his single room apartment

Filled with laughter and joy from the one he loves most

The ever present contrast is all encompassing as 

kids dash from corner to corner while

warmth exudes from the single 

Wick of the flicking candle 

it represents his life and meaning

deep inside he struggles to keep going and 

edges closer and closer to insanity 

as the monotonous days arrive through the revolving door of life

However, sometimes the door stops, 

and reverses bringing him 

memories that will last the rest of his existence on this planet 

when he looks at the door he sees his wife and kids, 

pushing against its frame using their joy and laughter to 

guide it the other way

he smiles knowing that no matter his circumstances, 

money could not give him the feeling of uniqueness 

and the aura brought with each new moment with those around him

as his superior muses in the office above

Contemplating the meaning of his own existence, 

He achieved notoriety and success 

at the cost of the empty void where his morals once resided 

His shoes white like innocent daisies 

newly blooming in a season never witnessed before 

Oblivious to their inevitable end 

when winters envelops them with

 cold embrace destroying everything they knew and cherished

as he ponders what to spend his small time on Earth doing, 

he comes to the conclusion that his estate is where he should reside for this year, 

So being the keeper of the factory he simply leaves walking to his sparkling new car which he once was proud of, as he drives home he believes that today will be different, something earth-shattering will occur and change his life for the better, 

but as he arrives to his fourth home, in its second garage, he realizes, nothing will change

he stares at the hundreds of other cars idle in his gallery

times past a prideful man would have shown these to his many friends

then reality pulls him back to his grim fate 

as he walks into his living room, 

the all white furniture is bleak like a canvas 

which has not experienced the joy of being painted 

or a paper that has not held a masterpiece of literature 

at this moment sitting in an 

empty room,

in an empty house, 

on an empty street, 

he realizes that no matter what facade is concocted or story is created, 

money will not stop you from truly being alone 

to wonder about your place in the world 

And what you leave behind