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Afters

Pulsing dance light,

Blaring in the face of all that drink it in

Adventures and shenanigianry abound;

Finding hearty new compatriots amongst the fellow inebriated

 

All that is left of memory is pleasant fuzz,

A sense of a truely teenage experience glowing fufiled

The flattened grass may be mangled beyond belief, sacrificed to the beat,

 

But oh, what a time to be alive

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Written by
ben-perry
Australian
Published
Aug 10, 2013
Lines·Words
8·63
Notes

Semi-hungover rambling on an excellent way to spend life

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