There were always lights
and people.
Familiar strangers,
but nothing more
and the drinks always overflowing
gripped tightly
in each's troubled hands
Each dialogue I feel
is a waste to write.
But for a few hours
you're able to feel
infinite,
and interested,
while it's still in your system.
Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 6:18 PM UTC
There were always lights
and people.
Familiar strangers,
but nothing more
and the drinks always overflowing
gripped tightly
in each's troubled hands
Each dialogue I feel
is a waste to write.
But for a few hours
you're able to feel
infinite,
and interested,
while it's still in your system.
