Valentine, you swine.
You might manipulate hearts.
But you won't have mine.
Me and my money will not part.
You can keep your sickly sweet chocolates and bitter wine.
Like many, I believed we all have a soulmate.
But now I know that's bull.
There's only one love I want to celebrate.
And that's of me, Paul.
Men are only good for their wallets and bodies.
To think otherwise is to think like a fool.
The thought of a man owning me rots me.
Love is a bitch with its rules.
Money spent.
On cards sent.
With words that aren't even meant.
All to appease the other half.
You're having a laugh.
You might think me bitter and jealous.
I learnt my lesson long ago.
I'll not waste my time with being zealous.
All my love goes into the words, birds and songs I've heard.
I don't care if it is tradition.
I don't need your permission.
Valentine, you are out of line.
To presume how I should romantically shine.