Throughout the years friends have been few,
(But when loyal, one friend will do;)
I never got close enough to make foes,
'I kept my distance' - as the saying goes

No birds, cats or dogs live in my house,
And I hesitate to count that mouse
That I've seen scampering down the hall.
(How dare he breach my castle wall!)
I fear he soon will  have a mishap . . .
Morning will find him dead in the trap.

But what resentment swells inside me
Thinking of all that's been denied me:
True love, contentment, happiness,
A hand to hold, a warm caress,
The passion with which I long to be kissed . . .
Alas! I've none of these treasures to list.
Such poverty I'm ashamed to declare,
My heart is starving . . . the cupboard is bare

Well, I guess my inventory's complete,
A grim tally, more sorrowful than sweet;
Ah, but then what right have I to complain?
I've a vast surplus of sorrow and pain,
A broken heart and buckets filled with tears . . .
What a stockpile I've amassed o'er the years!

But if Fate could rewrite my Book of Days
Changing these tears to laughter and bouquets,
This dreary house, haunted by lonely hours
Would be a dwelling filled with mirth and flowers