Anyone can write mushy prose,
Heaven knows.
Valentine’s Day cards flood the store,
Filled with slushy sentiment and more.
The airwaves daily over-spill
With heart-laden and breathy trills,
Lachrymose and so poignant,
They only add to my vast annoyment.
I just can’t seem to produce
Such heart-felt effuse.
The feelings there --the warmth and care –
But my vocabulary is of no use.
In the end, I’m left,
Quiet and bereft,
With the standard line:
Be my Valentine.
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