Friday Nights
Smoke billows in the air
Laughter and jokes ringing in your ears
Adults acting like children
Having a good time,
And dancing to loud music
Then the nostalgic music starts to play
The kind of music everyone knows
The kind you can sing to no matter what,
And hell that's exactly what we all do
This is the best of times,
When everyone gets together weekly
Bringing long lost tales and stories of their
Adventures
Friends and Family
All being stupidly drunk and making nights to
Remember.
This poem is about:
Me
My family