published: (updated: ) by Harshvardhan J. Pandit
The sky is bright,
The earth is pink;
It may look pretty,
But it does stink.
People scrambling around,
A large crowd of posers;
Acting to please others,
What a bunch of losers!
We watch from across the table,
This abhorrent display of vanity;
We find solace in each other,
Lost in this crowd we reek of sanity.
Drawn together, not by attraction,
But repulsion of the things around;
People whispering to each other,
Like white lies is their sweet sound.
As we look each other in the eye,
You smile gaily at me without a lie;
I shuffle closer to prop on one knee,
To ask you this in all my sincerity;
For I’m not yours, and you’re not mine,
My darling, will you be my Anti-Valentine?