Tis the season

ahem...

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Hallmark holidays,
Are not healthy for you.

To like someone's great,
So is lust from afar,
But to build up one day,
Is just really bizarre.

Best save passionate looks,
And heart palpitations,
For times that demand,
Fewer mass obligations.

'Cause firey loins,
And hormonal raging,
Need no artifice,
Or consumptive grand staging.

So, FTD, fail!
We will pine, we will ache,
On the days that we choose,
Not the days that you make.

And spend as we please,
This most faux-festive day,
Without posture or cheese,
In our own heart-felt way.

Be yours.

Happy days.