Broken men, whose forgotten thoughts,
Lead only to slurred words, and mistaken gestures,
Angry selfish voices, and thrown words.
Make the night scream,
With sirens, and the
Only
Flashing lights are blue.
Broken bottles, smashed glasses,
Tell tales of a thousand broken dreams,
Lost amidst the festive spirit, the fights, and the brawls.
As the song says ‘Here’s to another one’
Jostling crowds, crammed into bars,
Where there’s no place to stand, amidst,
Short skirted stiletto heeled girls,
Living out the old adage ‘Be merry!’
And
The black suited bouncer thinks
‘Give me the peace of a litter strewn street,
And the morning after,
For tomorrow is Christmas morn.’
© Nick Strong 2014