When was the last time I wrote a poem?
Lord knows its not a hobby of mine,
Shuffling words to find meaning in them;
Suppose everything deserves it's time.
Like filing through old Hallmark cards,
You find out who truly cared
And who did the obligated marred.
The pile is quickly and easily pared.
The unworthy can be cast out,
Love is a two way street.
The realization need not be a rout,
It is part of what makes it sweet.
But then again, who am I to say
What is or isn't anyway.