The Weekend Routine

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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!

© AcerSaccharum


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