Blood dripping from the end of my sword Like words falling from your lips. Atrocity is what falls in line When we stand at the station waiting for ships. Trying to write this loving poem All I can think about is your eyes If I poked them out with a fork Could you "feel" the skies? Wait.. No.. That isn't loving I forgot about your prize The little head you find so impressive Was such a teeny little surprise. Do not read those verses Read this one instead I hope you wake up slowly in a casket With a bullet in your head. This may not be the best love poem I'm just really glad you aren't mine. Most of all I am happy as hell To be single this Valentine.