21

Each and every day,
When you think you're twenty one.
You expect freedom in your breath,
What happens, it's not all easy.

Every Friday night,
You sing your favorite tune.
Karaoke bar,
Drinking a la mood.

What happens then?

Every Sunday morning,
You sing your favorite song.
Where the toilet bowl receives,
A distinctly unique view.

You think you're twenty one,
You may even be right.
But is there more to life?
From the cycle of constant nights?

You keep drinking til your blue,
A party every day?
Dancing long into the evening.
Sweet joy, a haze of memories.

The beauty of twenty one,
Greets you Sunday morning.
Yet you still refuse to stay,
And wait for twenty two.

Your groupies hang around,
Twenties wait and turn.
Yet those a few years older,
Just mock the years to curve.

Loving Sunday morning?
The suns harsh unbearing light?
You'll have one true companion.
To bring your jollies to.

Fools are twenty one,
So laugh the night away.
Because mornings soon a coming.
To sing your toilet tune.
♠ ♠ ♠
I have nothing against partying, I just feel it's overrated. Especially when the media shoves it down our throats that this is the way to live, to be frank, it isn't. Even if you party, you have plenty of other things about you and your life.