13.2.12

A Valentine's Carol

When I was a sophomore in high school our teacher asked us to write a poem "from another person's perspective" for Valentine's Day. Knowing most of my classmates would write angsty verses about their secret, tortured experience with unrequited teen love (it's no secret 16-year-olds take their own feelings wayyy to seriously), I decided to take a more humorous angle. When my friend from the newspaper heard my... unromantic take on Hallmark's favorite holiday, she decided to interview my for a Valentine's article. Unfortunately, the rest of my classmates didn't realize the assignment doesn't reflect my own viewpoint, so for the remainder of the year I was known as the girl who "hates love" (as quoted in a letter to the editor from a member of the student body).

Though I really do think Valentine's is (at least to a degree) a corporate ploy to take our money, what's wrong with taking a day to celebrate the people who love us?? So without further ado, here is A Valentine's Carol...


There is no award for hating Valentine’s Day,
But if there were
I would have won it yesterday.
Every year this holiday comes around
So people wish for romance
That’s not to be found.
It’s about kisses, candy, and cards that you got
Chocolate you eat
Until your teeth rot.
And I’ll be frank-
Tis something I often do-
It’s Hallmark CEOs that really love you.

But when I fell asleep on Valentine’s Eve
It wasn't long before I awoke
Feeling peeved --
A ghost in black leather sat on my bed
With the label “Valentine’s Past”
Written in red.
My eyes open wide
(with horror to be sure!)
But the Harley’s silver handles
Had a certain allure...
I sighed in relief
As she spoke with a Brooklyn drawl,
“Get on girlie, or you ain’t comin’ at all!”

Shortly thereafter we arrived at the scene,
A memory that happened
When I was only thirteen.
The boy that I liked was outside the door
Singing “You Are So Beautiful”
With his knee on the floor.
I descended the stairs to kiss him on the cheek
But after that day
I didn’t see him for a week.
If I wanted a boyfriend,
Looking back I now know,
Sneezing boogers on him
Probably wasn’t the way to go...

When we got back to my house
I hoped it was over,
But a man was there in a ruffled pullover!
He was decked out in pink
From head to toe,
And on top of his head
Lay a white, lace bow.
“I am Valentine’s Future” he winked and said.
I was confused.
Wasn’t he skipping ahead?

“I know what you’re thinking”
He observed with a smile,
“I wear women’s clothes
Like they’re going out of style.”
“Not exactly,” I grinned trying to be pleasant,
“I was just wondering,
What happened to Valentine’s Present?”
“Valentine’s Present?” he asked in shock,
“He is only a myth!
How do people believe such talk?”
“I don’t know and I don’t really care.
Can we please get on with this ugly affair?”
“All right, all right, don’t get your panties in a bunch.
We’re leaving right now,
Before you need something to punch.”

The future was pink and happy
Instead of morose;
My husband was perfect,
So romantic it’s gross.
And what’s even worse
That ruined the show,
MY HUSBAND was a Hallmark CEO.
“Take me home! I’m done! It’s through!
I knew I never should have listened to you!”
As soon as I got home
I jumped in my bed,
Drank half a bottle of Nyquil
That knocked me out dead.

At the beginning of this story,
After just three lines,
I said I should win an award for hating Valentine’s.
But I don’t think that anymore,
Since I've met a man that I adore.
He hates that day even more than me,
And now there’s talk of making
Valentine Hater number three!

By Arielle Hurst, age 15

Sweet love

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