It's quite the nuisance with the revolting smell of roses floating around and
the chocolates which never fail to turn one green, not to mention the sickening love poems
that only fools waste precious time in writing. Why is there a day about love, but not one about
the fascinating concept that is hatred?
Love will be the end of you,
Cupid's bow and all!
Hatred may not be what you deserve,
but it's better to have a heart filled with hate than than to be a
lovelorn lummox. So buy your roses and write your poems! In the end, it will all end with a slap.
A/N: This is a new type of poem that a teacher of mine introduced to me last year, and it's frustrating at first, but it ends up being so fun to write! It's called a Golden Shovel Poem, which means that you take a line from another poem, and each word of that line is the last word at the end of every line of your poem (did that make sense? I hope it did!). So all the words at the end of each line that I have bolded form the line "and poems about hatred you all serve a slap," and it is from a poem called "I Hate Poems." I don't know who the author is, but I found it on a website called allpoetry.