It was on the 13th of February when my heart gave out
That fateful eve of Saint Valentine's Day
Red, the roses were not, but black instead
As was my world, after you went away.
We were partners in crime, the pair of pears
As paint and brush; complimentary.
Now with your untimely passing, dear friend,
Nothing shall ever be as satisfactory.
Oh, that my love could change the facts of history!
That your death was but a joke that we played!
But the truth hurts, it sounds like screeching metal,
A death nail to our love, forever waylaid.
I resent the culprit in this mad case.
I resent the collision which killed you.
I resent all powers, godly and earthly,
But mostly I resent myself too.
How could I have dared to enjoy myself?
All that mirth, the times we shared.
Remember our first date at that old carousel?
For your return, I would have traded that.
Or how about that time when I visited your folks?
I am fond of your mother, not so much your father, for he frowned far too much.
But my heart softened when I beheld the poor man at your funeral
For your father wept the hardest during that final solemn march.
As for me, I could not weep anymore,
Tears will not bring back the friend of my heart.
In the lesser life I had known, what would have made me weep,
Now makes this life a life I will gladly depart.
Nothing is worth living for anymore.
Food, the arts, nor the pursuit of our goals.
All this mattered while you still lived, for we spoke much,
But now, all my sanity is riddled with jagged holes.
Now I must go, friend, to find my way,
All on my lonesome, in a world gone awry.
I have to find something to exist for, no matter the cost,
For I too paid a hefty price, on this 13th of February.
YOU ARE READING
That Eve of Valentine's
PuisiJust a short piece of poetry I wrote, that my sister requested for her Literature portfolio.