Short poem I put together, curious as to what people think. I know poetry isn't supposed to be a treasure hunt as some people tend to make it out to be, but I tried to make every line work towards a common meaning, and wondering how it worked out. Criticism of any kind of is welcome.
Singer in Black
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There once lived a man who sung songs in dark hues,
With many a tear shed over his pain,
Yet none wished to walk in his shoes,
All knew of the troubles he could not explain.
With a crowd below him and a rod in his hand,
Joins a league of names engraved in stone,
When he sings time stops its shifting sands,
He whistles to many, yet still stands alone,
Sings a grave little tune as his fists shovel bone.