Infatuation

A poem about the 'love' trek and outcomes

Enchanted by her beauty and intellect
I never knew that the journey to her heart was a trek
I Bestowed my heart and she didn't give me hers back
I use to count the days with her now I just subtract

It was never love it was infatuation
A mistake done in the interpretation of the hypnotic situation
silly me, I should have realised this before I made my donation
To someone who didn't need my heart and my contemplation

Now my heart has acquired liberty
From cunning vixens that showed no sympathy
Never Again will I be clouded by perplexity
Nor alter from the vigilant state of sanity

Stabbing my heart with a dagger was a blessing
since you rejuvenated my wits from capsizing
like the relationship we were sailing in
I feel pity for the next heart you stab "unknowingly