Like Onegin
In my childhood days,
I remember a young boy,
who was carefree and funny.
But he never left my mind
as the guy who gave me odd gifts
of grown up clothes and stuff.
An emotionless girl I was back then,
I never thought of him
the way he thought about me.
I indirectly, unknowingly rejected him,
his fervent confession of young love.
Years did pass,
he left my life, but did I leave his?
I dug up my old things,
and among them I see,
the glittery top he gave me.
Then more mature as I was,
I asked him again,
what did he mean when he gave me this,
and why he did.
He answered me;
I was drop dead in love with you back then.
Surprised, I was
I shook it off with a casual laugh and said; Ok then.
He wasn`t so handsome,
but his charm was his smile and deep eyes.
Then almost a year after that,
I see him again and guess what?
I stare wide-eyed of what he became.
His toned body and his neat hair.
His smile and eyes I still remember.
Unknowingly, I started thinking about him,
and how I wished I had him as mine.
Like Onegin, I am.
Rejecting a lover,
then later regretting and chasing after him again.
But unlike him,
I never managed to confess my feelings,
because I know,
Like Onegin,
I only fell for him because of how he looks now.
And I curse at myself for thinking of him like that.
And here I am now,
Like Onegin,
defeated and lonely.
Copyright © Genevieve Farese | Year Posted 2011
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