The Superfluity Of Valentine’s Day
A time for lovers, so they say,
for me it’s just another day,
since all my days begin and end,
with thoughts of you.
The truest day to celebrate,
the day you came into my view,
every day since then, too rich to calculate,
but fearful you might not appreciate,
I must give another clue,
to the depth of my devotion,
the constancy of my emotion,
I yield to the banality convention now imposes,
and gift you dear, again, with chocolate and roses.
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