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Poetry » Love » The Truth about Valentines font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: M.E. Barstow
Fiction Rated: T - English - General - Reviews: 2 - Published: 02-27-08 - Updated: 02-27-08 - Complete - id:2481142

The Truth about Valentines

How many corny love letters do we get a year? One for weddings, because we care

And one on that special day to say ‘I love you’ to the world and make those

Poor souls who don’t have someone feel entirely miserable about their

Pathetic existence on this planet. But for someone like me who has someone like

You, it is a day to show our pearly whites, sharp as they may be; turn up full,

Voluptuous lips and cry to the world, ‘I am loved! Take that ye people

Absolutely convinced I would fail! Ha ha ha!’ But what is this euphoric,

Light, bubbly feeling that is love? Is it nothing more than a reason too sent corny

E-cards with creepy dancing bunnies who sing in grating, high-pitched voices, ‘I don’t want

Nobody but you’ to a song popular only in the 60’s that no one remembers?

Time was when love meant sneaking out and serenading the poor girl

In the middle of the night from under her window, risking the wrath of her parents but

No more. Love is now more carnally expressed, lewd messages, the focus

External instead of internal. No more is the story of Emperor Claudius sending martyred

Saint Valentine to his death for secret marriage ceremonies as relevant, touching or

Devastating as it once was. In fact, it is now almost forgotten, replaced by such

Atrocities as the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. What a way to tell your beau, ‘I love

You,’ ‘Let’s go kill those we don’t like! It is so constructive!’ But I’m letting

Emotions get the better of me. But isn’t that what Valentine’s Day is about?

Vowing love eternal to that special someone, whether you mean it or not? And

Especially when it’s an honest sentiment, it is cheering to hear. But on the days you don’t

Remember I’m here because your eyes are on someone else; don’t expect me to shed a tear for

Your plight when it turns out we all hated you anyway. But isn’t that what this Hallmark

Occasion is for? To make us feel loved when loved we aren’t? Or was all of it some

Narcissistic joke? Were those roses really full of some poison powder to

Eradicate my in my sleep, like this day has done to my hopes and dreams? Knowing you, probably



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