Mine to bear

Amour, ’tis mine to bear. Alas! Am I turning mad? Oh, don’t you shed a tear. I’m just a lost young lad. Inside the mind’s lair, ’tis a word the soul had. For what do I even care? Inside out I’m not this bad. I don’t see ’em a pair, ’tis not me who is eerie sad. ’tis a deposition of despair— against one who’ll never be glad.