Happy Valentines (or is it?)!

Oh what’s this game
Played with beating hearts
Love is its name
Cupid aiming his darts
Will it be a hit or a miss
Will we love each other to bits

The hit gives such a high
Higher than the highest mountains
But the miss
It dives deeper
Than the deepest oceans
Leaving crumbling remains
Of a shattered heart
And the heavy burden
Of an anchored soul
Anchored in the high seas
With nary another soul
In sight or flight
With only doom and gloom
For company inside

As I write
So I realise
I carry and I feel
The pangs of a beaten heart
More than a happy one
Is that what is special
About me and mine
That unique ability
To have a friend
In solitude and celebrate
To treasure my torn heart
To cherish the gaps and cuts
From which pour
My feelings in words
My art in colours
My passion in poetry

Maybe it is true
What they say
Having loved and lost
Is better than
Not having loved at all
Yes I am a romantic that way.