Friday Nights

Smoke billows in the air

Laughter and jokes ringing in your ears

Adults acting like children

Having a good time,

And dancing to loud music


Then the nostalgic music starts to play

The kind of music everyone knows

The kind you can sing to no matter what,

And hell that's exactly what we all do


This is the best of times,

When everyone gets together weekly

Bringing long lost tales and stories of their


Friends and Family

All being stupidly drunk and making nights to


This poem is about: 
My family


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