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

I gave up my pen,
And tore all my dreams.
Poetry never was my friend
Thus my journey as poet, here ends.


- qyf