I went out walking early one day.
My heart was not stolen away.
I didn't meet a pair of dark eyes.
My heart didn't fly to the skies.
I stayed in bed the day after that.
Life was bland as a newspaper hat.
Nobody called me to talk on the phone.
I ate all my chocolate candies alone.
So I decided to call you on Valentine's.
To talk of buttons or pickles or land mines.
I've got a question I'd like you to answer:
Will you not be my Valentine for now and next year?
February 2007 Idaho
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem