The Menagerie of the Heart By: Al Ray

Oh, cometh ye,

To the menagerie,

Of the one whose soul is torn,

By every worry and self-doubt he has borne,

Deep with within himself he sought,

The pains and joys emotions wrought,

Self-denial is what he saw,

In drunken revelry that did thaw,

Everything hidden from himself he found,

Deep within lays the things he bound,

Enlightenment he had found in the child of the vine,

With inhibitions lost he surely did whine,

This it did give him hope,

His pains are those of which he can cope,

To his crush he laid him self bare,

And pleaded with her to be kindly and fair,

For the her feelings of him he knows not,

Any word from her will cease his mind's rot,

Caused by the fears and doubt that makes him ill,

He prepares himself for when he voice may become shrill,

Yet he hopes that is not to be,

Hopes that his crush will be neutral or benign to one such as he,

Is he foolish to lay himself bare,

Was what he wrote to her fair,

Worries abound when one wait of an answer,

Like when a patient fears that then may have cancer,

Hidden feeling of fear and horrid self-doubt,

He hopes his crush will help him rout,

To split these chains,

That were wrought from old pains,

Caused by not having a romantic love,

Who is as blessed as a dove,

Or one at all,

His heart to him does call,

From love unfound,

He seek only friendship unbound,

He hope he did offend or scare,

A lady fair,

He awaits her word,

For once he gave his full name,

And he hopes his heart will stay the same,

From a confidence conferred,

Awaits alone and confounded,

But he hope still abounded,

That hope of his is a light,

Hope that his crush will do right,

And hope his fears were wrong,

With his self-doubts be gone,

Awaits he shall and hope,

So that he can once again cope,

Fair-well my friend,

For this tale is surely at an end.