"Don't you get tired of it all?" she said,
As we passed the bottle around again.

The same old faces in the same old basment not doing anything.

We all get high just to pass the time,
telling stories of when we were young.

And with each past shared we lose a bit of ourselves.
We sit there collecting dusts like books on a shelf.

And we laugh about how we'll never change and how we won't turn out like our parents.

The night time comes stirring up our spirits.
And with each passing moment we wonder if not now then when?

We used to call each other friends,
now we're miles apart and barley keep in touch.

It takes so much to bring it up in a sentence,
now we interact with post cards dated for a special occasion.

Like ghost inside our former selves,
Envious of who we used to be.
We sit alone and contemplate when we decided,
If not now then when?