The untold story
This is a story of a man trying to create a bond
He thought love is cool,yet can't find it fond.
He spent his care and affection,
But all he bought was pain.
His heart is aching; he has nothing to gain
He gave his heart and attention
In Her heart,he wish to ingrain his name
It's painful,but love will always have its fame .
That stupid fame of being known to be disregarded.
Not being appreciated,but discarded
Love will seat alone,always feeling deserted.
Love will always look at "game" take its rightful place.
Love will leave his home without his wife embrace
Love will bury his face in his palm; he's feeling disgraced.
Let me do a recap
This man now finds his joy in a glass of "Harp"
You call him a drunkard? You're wrong perhaps.
Love is more drunken than a drunkard,yet we wish to have a taste.