There's never enough to drink for a man full of sorrows.

He's happy with the life he's chosen,

enough money to pay the bills and buys things most don't.

The work is hard, sometimes to the point he hates it,

other times he shakes, uncontrolled from all the pride.

His family isn't a perfect one like in the movies,

divorce, scandal, abuse... come so easy yet overlooked.

Though through the hard times his heart grows,

creating a tough leathery skin to protect it from harm.

Keeping the bad things out, and some good things in,

teaching him to open his broken heart when needed and not.

So he weeps no more, eyes forever dry,

only to feel the pressure welling up inside.

His life is now simple, no complexity's or worry,

full and fun to the point, where it's turns blank.

He helps others when they're in pain, and know not to do,

holding up their burdens, with much care and support is true.

Only to take what scars other should have,

know the pain of it all to save another's suffering.

Keeps it inside to fuel the fire within himself,

to keep him going, without purpose or direction.

Taking it all day by day, night by night,

Walking through hell, looking it in the eye without a fight.

He will bend but never break, making the bottle his friend,

to lean on yet not fall, always to get up again.

And he sits alone, waiting for the next plight,

only to realize there is no end in sight.

His life is full of sorrows, all laughter and pain,

with only the need to find someone who'll take his name.

So he'll stand only to lean, and fall but not fall,

love his life of sorrows, and the happiness of it all.