Flowers without fresh water will die. Poetry writing entries.

Valentine.

My favorite holiday rolls around so quickly lost between old flakes of snow and blossoming flowers.
the time of years when shades of pinks and reds are the colors that devours.

When love cresses the hearts of many.
When people look forward to sunny days and smiles are over plenty.

The holiday that marks love just blossoming and a love that has taken its course.
Watching romantics holding their beloveds.
Watching lovebirds sing in the fresh wintery breeze is something you can't force.

Once a year I'm reminded how deeply I wanted to be loved.
A love that shifts deep down in your blood.

I still smile at the singing bird and laugh with the couples who celebrate their affection.
But I'm still saddened that the first face I will see on Valentine's Day isn't an eggar boyfriend with flowers but my own lonely reflection.

Valentine's Day is my favorite because love is my most favorite thing in the world.
But loneliness shadows my great affection for love.
Of course I will still get dressed in pink and do my hair maybe it might even be curled.
I will buy myself flowers and admiring the matches around my town and eat chocolate covered strawberries that have been dipped and swirled.

And when the night roams around and the lanterns have escaped and dinners begun.
I'll light my candles and enjoy my food reminiscing on all my fun.

But when the room goes silent and I look around at only me.
My heart will always feel very heavy.

I'll go to my room and close my eyes.
A wish for someone who can only be mine.
Praying maybe someday I will finally have my valentine.
-Ilona Darling