This Day of Remembrance

I know I just posted a while ago, but the occasion is right and I'm in the mood, so...

At one time, I tried my hand at writing poetry.  Three years ago, just a couple months after my first breakup, I found myself single again for the 20th straight Valentine's Day of my life.  Feeling a little down, I wrote a poem and blogged about it; you can read the poem (and another, even older one) by clicking the link above.  For your convenience, though, I have Ctrl-C-ed the poem here.  But first I gotta warn you, it has a slight tinge of emo.
This Day of Remembrance

And so it arrives, knocking at the door,
The day of remembrance of an overlooked saint
Whose name remained in popular lore,

Yet causes unwarranted stress and strain,
Birthed from tales of sacrificial lambs,
An excuse for birth of affection feigned.

Though love so pure can from normal men stem,
More often than not, the heart does lie,
Catastrophes blamed on bodily phlegm.

Pitiful are flowers that wantonly try
To draw in a bee with petals of flame
When nectar alone will get them by,

For even Venus beat the fly at the game.
So thus I lie in waiting for the one
Who pierces my being by the whisper of her name,

And then I shall make this day of this month
No more or less important than another;
Every moment burns, fiery like the Sun.

The foolish are not mistaken, but rather
Seizing the day for unconditional love.
I too realise the folly of my endeavours,

But never will I let the florists and cardmakers gain
From this day of remembrance of an overlooked saint.

I'm significantly less poetic now, I believe.  Maybe that's because I'm actually kinda happy with life the way things are going (especially since I'm no longer single, yays).  I'm not miserable; the best artists are often really miserable people.  Seriously.  Emily Dickinson, Vincent Van Gogh, Michael Jackson...  They're all wackos in one way or another.  Come look for me again when I'm a thrice-raped paraplegic burn victim with lung cancer and a bowel infection.  Oh, and syphillis.

Touch wood.

Oh, and Happy Chinese New Year!  I'm sweltering here in Melaka, though...  Thankfully, I'll be heading back to Subang Jaya in about 18 to 20 hours, methinks.

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