As I write this piece of mine.
Valentine was my man for life,
He promised me a dance under the moon light,
When we become husband and wife.
He thought me alot about love,
Which made me surrender my side of knife,
Cos i swore to him, that if ever he makes my life full of strife,
I wont mind giving him slices of the strife with my knife.
He feared. He agreed. And promised me a life of fun.
We moved. We married. And finally danced under the moon light,
We packed all the things we had gained from life,
Including my character turpentine.
But valentine, forgot his character turpentine.
Few months into marriage, he had forgotten, i was his wife.
He was now threatening me with my own knife.
I finally turned out, to recieve my protest - that life of strife.
On a night we dined with wine,
Valentine was not in his spark so bright,
I asked, if he needed my light,
But he simply said, "i need to polish my charater with turpentine"
And so will need time as his tool to get back,
I didnt know, that turpentine could keep my valentine in a distance,
I would have made Febuary 14 such a nuisance,
Cos he seems to make my valentine just a happenstance.
I hear of his coming every year, but his arrival never happen by chance,
Wherever you are, Valentine, teach me to be that turpentine,
So you dont leave me to die,
I miss you, Valentine,
Its been long we danced under the moon light.
Adobeah
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