I know I am broken like a pitcher of clay
I should neglect it; what use of it, say!
They had done, my relatives, friends,
Knowing that there’s no hope remains;
It’s then I saw you entering the scene,
Collecting me; recollecting and joining;
Not with ordinary gum or coal of old,
But with pure and purified karat gold;
I looked glamorous than before I was,
It’s, hence, I love you and keep you close…