Contest for a poem

In the darkest corner of a rundown shack
Lived a lonely old man by the name of Mac
The kids from the town called him “Mr. Hate”
And they’d throw stones at him from beyond his gate

There wasn’t a single soul in the whole town who cared
What happened to the man who lived ‘up there’
And even if there was who would he let in
For him love and kindness were the worst possible sin

But the little old widow she didn’t mind
She didn’t care if he was unkind
For every day she brought him a meal
If for nothing else it made her feel,,,, happy

Now after awhile the old mans heart
Began to soften and he would not part
With the hour a day pleasing the widow’s heart
And this thus made him,,,, happy

Now the old man got to know her real well
But then one day things all went to hell
The widow didn’t show for his daily meal
And this thus made him feel,,,, angry

He went into town for the first time in years
And for the first time in his life his eyes they filled with tears
Because as he approached the middle of town
There lay the old widow dead on the ground

With his dinner plate still in her hand
She died showing kindness to a mean old man
Now the old man took this as a final sign
And he went back home and there he did hide

He never came out and he was never seen again
And he died an old man thinking love was a sin
Now to me what he saw was really quite clear
Because laying there was the person he felt dear

And she’d be alive to this very day
If he hadn’t of let her see him in that loving way