The Weekend Routine

A high school party
Bright colours and backwards hats
Jostling
Circling 
Lighting smokes
Around a bon fire
Hidden by silhouettes of trees.
The intoxicating sips are an adventurous feeling.
The girls get loose
And the guys get loud.
Fist fights
And smiles.
The hangover in the morning
Recalls the joyous memories of the night,
And begs for another round.
Every weekend is another blast
More drinks and more girls,
Maybe more drugs.

Years have passed,
The weekend rituals have etched
Tired lines in a sunken pale face.
That goes to work each week
To recover last week’s spent cheque.
And comes home to be
Mundane 
Miserable. 

Another night with no purpose
Drinking
Escaping
Feeling diseased.
Whether at the bar or dim living room.
Surrounded by a new crowd.
The frequent drinks
Are an exhausting routine.
The wise ones have stopped the weekend ritual
Before their youth drowned out.
Feeling tired and beaten
The hangovers in the mornings
Are a painful reminder.
You did it again,
You haven’t stopped.
Maybe next week.

Just typed this free verse out to give my brain a break from working on Iambic Pentameter forms that I've been trying to learn lately. I plan on editing it and reworking some lines, feedback and criticism is much appreciated!