Rumination Poem by Mihaela Pirjol

Upon the paths of yore I tread
With faltering steps, in memories;
And it hurts again the hurt I felt
For a love as subtle as the breeze:
With its first signs, —my heart does tease.

Then, I mistook it for rejection,
And I pushed myself to feel no more:
The wounds were raw in self-projection,
And it hurt me to the core,
For I could not prove my love was gone!

I have tried, so very hard,
To conceal its pulsing presence! —
To conceal the verses of the bard:
You have insisted to feel in absence:
You have poisoned the love's essence!

No trembling, sigh, or blushing cheeks
Could then escape your vigilant eyes:
I have stood exposed before your tricks,
With vulnerable heart before your eyes—
Whilst you mocked it in disguise!