In your kindness don't you even try
to send me a sweet and candy Valentine.
In my place I am doing really fine
and, mind you, don't ask me why.
The cupid is poor and blind,
the brains he incepts by random
and limits the movement freedom;
I'd rather follow my own mind.
Don't try to convince me anyhow
as I am a hater of the pink cupid.
I believe he's just drunk and stupid -
to limited companies he sold himself.
I don't believe the poisoned arrow from a shelf
that strikes a heart on this very day.
I found my own, straight way.
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