Eyes were sunken, weary to cry Why, his heart grew sullenly dry For years, I tilled and toiled the land Even if what I got were cuts and wounds on my hand
Sowed the seed yet rain did not come He knew I watered it with tears and did all that I can I had waited like a farmer for the seed to sprout I had been steadfast in hope in a midst of drought
Never did I see him shed a sweat What he did is to insult me and hurt When he intentionally let the weeds grow And watered it instead
How then can love grow and blossom in a barren land? All my hardships were wasted and buried beneath the ground
The farmer suffered under the heat of the sun And is rewarded with his crops after all he had done But me, I suffered the loss of everything in myself And after I wrought for love to bloom, I reaped none but grief
I had shed my every drop of love To an unworthy person, who loves me not Now hatred ploughed and rooted in my heart I know, in due season, he shall reap his part
--- Queenie Y. Florentino
*will be very occupied with my post-graduate research.