who was He...?

Books just willow,shoved off some English trees,
And text,typewriter hit,inked keys,
Roller pen to roll in fingers sleek,
There goes the cool one at his peak.

His clothes are kinda wearing him,
Satanic verses now his hymn,
A rugged one,all by himself,
Beats to his ears,a wire feeds.

Teacher's pet surely not him,
Classrooms he seldom pays visit,
Envy of some,other's disgust,
A loofy git,might well befit.

The charisma,that winning streak,
Appetite for challenges,strength of will,
This skeletal powder-copy lacks,
Hands hold just frets,girl's hands or quill.

To beat him up,to beat him at,
To subdue him,a piece of cake,
Throw him outta his flock or herd,
Bet I most worth,fuss he won't make.

Stands he in front of glass that reveals,
His better him,his bitter deeds,
The glass just shatters down to earth,
Helped him not at high time of need.

Thick ropes encircled his thin neck,
Fan on the roof then went to meet,
Hanged he patiently till knees felt weak,
Last leaf in his history thus complete.

Affair some say,acads din't meet,
Great expectations,broke him to piece,
Wasn't he the one,chose for himself,
An early gateway of release.

A thought struck me like thunderbolt,
How did I know him who was he,
Soul when in me I could mot find,
Ah! was it I or was it me...