I still remember my young self
From years ago when I used
To fantasize about the
Friday nights I would spend
In a club with rebellious
Friends,getting drunk
On the dance floor and then
Run down the street with
An unknown man I would
Have just met in the midst
Of the dim,but flashy disco lights
And intoxicate myself
More and more
And find myself in yet another
Club with bottles of Scotch
All ensnaring my mind
And senses next Friday-
It seemed so right,
Years ago in my fantasies;
But with time, I realized
That Friday nights are much
Safer in the hands of a book,
Than in the guilty embrace
Of beer and whiskey
And much more beautiful
When you take in the essence
Of the pages that remind you
Of home,than in the hands
Of the pretty strangers
You find on Friday nights.