Solitude truly adores me 
Inking letters,
Plucking roses,
Valentine cards,
Smiling and awaiting,
The truth doth haunt me,
I wonder,
Whom doth all these belong to?
To the solitude that adores me.??
     ~~~~~~~

     "Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste: And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd."