- Text Size +

Fingers touch my precious lyre.

When I play, this is what I fear.

My heart aches, for you are not mine.

No, you belong to the ladies you wine and dine.

The misery that I live each day,

I try not to put it up on display.

I hide it well for no one knows I play.

Wishing you could love me the same way.

Chapter End Notes:

You must login (register) to review.