A Limerick Un-Witty

There once was a girl so sweet,
That if she and you were to meet,
She'd take you for a ride,
Around the countryside,
And she'd sweep you off your feet.

There once was a boy so naive,
He'd stick his hand into a beehive,
And get stung and cry,
But would still get up and try
And say golly do i feel alive.

The boy and girl both met one day,
All was jolly, merry and laughter gay,
But the union was short,
The girl said with a snort,
I'd much rather you go away.

The boy was stung, and not by bees,
He cried, and begged, got down on his knees,
But the girl would not hear,
And the boy did fear,
That she'd cast him aside with ease.

The boy was struck, how easy it was,
For the girl to break his heart because,
He'd falled in love with the girl,
But she was merely looking for a twirl,
And left him without a pause.

The boy cried all day and night,
All his friend were struck with fright,
Cause the boy never laughed again,
He was just one of those broken men,
And shied away from daylight.

He locked himself in his cabin small,
Came out in neither sun not squall,
For seven years, till one spring,
Came a minstrel with tales to sing
And set up tent near the cabin wall.

The singer sang of joy and beauty,
He sang of what was right and of duty,
He sang of soap and dental floss,
But atlast he sand of love and loss,
And the boy peered out of a window sooty,

The boy had grieved for seven years,
His eyes no longer gave out tears,
And though he was now much older,
Inside he was no more bolder,
And was much afraid of the people's jeers.

But the minstrel sang of a boy's love,
And how a cruel girl killed that dove,
So the boy listened from his window,
So newly cleared of the winter snow,
And listened to the tale of a battered nub.

The nub was all that was left,
Of the heart the rest was cleft,
And he heard of the heart that cried,
Every day, till atlast the hero tried,
To again try to learn to be deft.

The boy in the song learnt to live,
Grew up to learn how to give,
And in giving know joy,
And so now the listening boy,
Tried hard to forget and forgive.

The boy opened the window to listen more,
Till atlast he had the courage to open the door,
And still trembling with self-pity and grief,
Decided to try just one soujourn brief,
And see if he could be what he was once before.

He came out into the spring sun,
And before long he began to run,
For he saw birds in the trees,
And felt again the cool breeze,
And felt his grief was finally done.

The boy never again locked himself in,
And slowly got back his innocent grin,
And though you could sometimes see the shade,
Of the wound the cruel girl once made,
It would hide mostly in his secret bin.

And one day many summers from the minstrel's song,
He saw a beautiful woman on the path come along,
And the talked and sang and ate and drank,
And with each other were honest and frank,
And agreed on what was right and wrong.

The fell in love, but not the kind,
Of first-sight nor blind,
The knew each other first and,
Decided it would be truly grand,
If they got into a wedding bind.

The feast was set, the guests were met,
And boy was in eternal debt,
Of his wonderful wife,
Who gave him another chance at life,
And at the alter, both their cheeks were wet.

They lived for a good many happy days,
Till all their hairs were either gone or grays,
And were truly happy as they could be,
And each morning were glad to see,
Each other with dawn's fresh new rays.

And what of the first girl you ask?
Well to tell of that is a sad task,
She went on her charming way,
Leading many innocent boys astray,
Living with each with an actor's mask.

But one day she was pretty no more,
And could not do what she had done before,
And so she tried to find,
What she had so often left behind,
But love no longer knocked on her door.

It is a sad tale and a happy one too,
For you shall suffer as you shall do,
And I now hope that you realise,
The truth dancing before your eyes,
Love back someone who truly loves you.