The Ballad of Valentine

In the city of ancient Rome,
lived a man called Valentine.
Jesus his God, church his home,
and the light of love to shine.

Performing marriage of young couples,
was forbidden and against King’s will.
But he without fear faced the troubles.
Alas! The king went for the kill.

In prison, his last days would unfurl.
During he cured the Jailor’s daughter, blind.
Wrote a letter before execution, to the girl,
as a farewell, “From your Valentine”.

Recited to the masses, has been this tale,
without conformity or evidence.
To capitalize on it, the clever wouldn’t fail.
“So romantic”, but barely makes any sense!

The Church made Valentine, an official saint,
and so began a tradition of feast.
Later did the poets, make it a festival quaint,
and it transformed into a full blown heist.

Celebrated every year, this “day of love”,
on February fourteenth, when the man did die.
When presents, the lovers were to shove,
and the sale of “hearts” to touch sky high.

First of all, heart isn’t the shape of a bum,
and roses, chocolates, don’t win love true.
This special day is all but hokum,
for days of confession, can be many, not few.

So don’t wait for the love God, Cupid,
and do not say this line,
looking incredibly stupid,
“Will you be my Valentine?”