Once upon a long time ago,
Way back in the days of my youth,
When everything still seemed immortal,
And I was fearless of the truth,
I played the game and I played to win,
And I played a mighty hand,
I broke many hearts and I stole a few,
And I burned some in the sand.
I was an amorous philanderer,
With many a notch carved on my bed,
I wined them and I dined them,
I used them and then I left.
I was the bright eyed Casanova,
With the widest Cheshire grin,
I was pleased as Punch with my exploits,
And not once did I feel sin.
Then I saw you from the edge of a dream,
In the hazy mists of sunset's veil,
You looked vague among the shadows
That crept deep inside my soul,
To fill my heart with desire and envy,
I grew jealous of your beauty,
And I pledged my life to winning you,
Urged on by my own vanity.
With a one track mind I set to task,
And I cast all else aside,
For the first time I felt the misery
Of an aching heart that pines.
For you shunned all of my advances,
And you sent back all my presents.
It was you who burst my bubble,
To stagnate my effervescence.
And in the company of strangers,
I found myself trying to hide,
Away from the pain of a broken heart,
In the cheapest bars I could find,
And each night I'd raise a toast,
And make a promise to myself,
That I would drink you off my mind,
But alas, to no avail.
With the dawn I found myself watching
As a spider weaved his web,
And like an ancient nobel warrior
In an obscure Scottish cave,
I found myself pondering,
The conundrum of my plight,
And I vowed to try and try again,
Determined to win the fight.
But in the fairytale world of romance,
All that glitters is not gold,
And sometimes pain's the only prize,
And you cannot come in from the cold.
But unable to rest my laurels,
I felt my karma burn,
As fate dealt me his cruel hand,
While you showed no concern.
Now I look back with melancholy
Thoughts of deep remorse,
At a long lost trail of broken hearts,
And of all the pain I've caused,
For I never believed that hearts could break,
That is until I met you,
I took love for granted, but now I know,
The whole miserable truth.
KarmaWhat goes around...
By Harry Boslem