With no make on and eye lash hangin’
Pumping on E. bassy travelling the subway
Friday jumps on you, with expectation galore: Drink, gloat, sitting on-
Refurbished old rustic sofas on the far end of the bar.

Would your TGIF be a spent screaming over the music?
To make yourself heard with sweaty drunk happy hearts grinding?
Or would it be a cosy comforter holding you tight-
While you binge on anything scrolled now since the dragons flew?

Measuring ourselves to our own scales is-
Scary, if mildly put; social beings we are, to be, is a need-
But contentment may lie in unexpected unsocial moments sometime then-
As the years grey by, clear becomes the crystal, ever much so.

Random thoughts of a wandering mind;
Smother not, caress quietly- tune into some AI’d playlist;
Put on that conversation repellent, we all call earphones
And glow warmly in your sweet company, for it is TGI’my’F.