‘Twas the night before Valentines, when all through the world,
Every rose has been picked, every gift ribbon curled.
The chocolates have been bought and every penny spent,
every card filled with words half meant.
Lonely hearts have made themselves known,
in hopes that Cupid still has an arrow left to make them less alone.
A lonely girl sat in the corner,
in her hand was a long distance letter.
Her eyes red, her cheeks puffy,
With a nose all red and stuffy.
It brought on memories of hurt, of hope and of love,
all things she desperately tried to let go of.
She cursed and wept and cursed some more,
hoping to flush out the hurt from her core.
She looked around at the floating hearts,
of the couple in front of her who couldn’t seem to be ripped apart.
Her pink drink seemed to never end,
So she decided to go home and leave behind her drunken friend.
The bareness of the place made her more lonely,
the tightness of the dress made her feel phony.
A soft knock made her heart race and leap,
but when she opened the door, what did she see?
A tired little angel,
made out of shell.
She took the little St. Valentine into her hands,
and she suddenly didn’t feel so sad.
A little note hung on the figurine,
and she looked around the little scene.
When it was sure that no one was in sight,
she let herself read the note under a light.
“Happy Valentines to you sweetheart.
Someday I’ll come back,
we won’t be too far apart.”