seven years on, <br />and although she has gone, <br />Valentines day always casts <br />its line out into the murky pool of memories, <br />pulling out the one of her final gift. <br /> <br />Sure, we was young and the meaning of love <br />was no closer to reality to that <br />of the earth and the sun. <br /> <br />We had been stagnant for a while, <br />our bodies reppelling like <br />mismatched magnets, <br />been quite a time since we had smiled. <br /> <br />She arrived at my house <br />feeling cold inside and out. <br />Silence was the main meal, <br />during our unromantic dinner. <br /> <br />Even the candles were crying, <br />as I gave to her, her valetines gift, <br />Like a child who had already opened, <br />60 presents, she slowly unwrapped. <br /> <br />A cold kiss not on the lips <br />was her way of saying thanks. <br />Later as she was leaving, <br />she placed in my hands a <br />carrier bag and whispered <br />Happy valentines day before <br />stepping out into the cold. <br /> <br />Closed the door, and pulled <br />out a half drunk bottle of Vodka <br />from the bag she had gave me. <br /> <br />Two days later she dumped me, <br />the thoughtfull bitch had prepared me, <br />for having my heart broken <br />with her valentines gift.<br /><br />Not Long Left<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/valentines-vodka/
