Saturday

Does alcohol control the night

When all you want to do is fight?

But grown up thoughts invade your mind

With fucked up thoughts of all you find

Are twisted through the eyes of Jack

As texts you sent just won’t come back

From arguments that never meant

To be wrote down and never sent

However natural boundaries raised

Against those drunk and endless days

Of potent drinks with little end

But Jack my soulmate? No, my friend!

So, through the evening I shall slip

With alcohol to make me quip

Of days gone by when life was fun

And things were great for everyone