A Tale That Is Told Poem by Boston Kelley

I once met a man who told a great tale;
a story of a man whose pain had no equal.
A sorrowful heart he was cursed with
that poured forth fountains of misery.
Never-ending streams of tears gushed from
his eyes as his wails sounded around the world.
His voice would only permit a guttural sob
for any happiness within him was wrung out.
Chained by his own melancholy he was that
the chains drove further his pain.
Day and night, he cut himself to cease his misery
yet could not find the sweet release of death.
A cave was he confined to that his sobs
would not reach others; loneliness does he find as
his sole companion.
He hopes for death and cries out for an end, yet
the end does not reach out to him.
Death has denied him, cursing him to a grievous
existence.
Within that cave, his wails cut forth the rocks and
his trembles shake the walls.
No man dares rescue him for his sobs are like
poison to the ears.
The tale ended and the man left, yet he did not
know that man's cursed sorrowful heart lie
within me.