Everyone in the party…. got drunk,
With slurred, misaligned, words and terms in their speeches,
Trust crumbled in breeches among lifelong friends.
With rising intensity rude, rowdy rabble,
And base racist babble embedded in lies,
Quick winks of the eye to imply quips were clever,
That clumsily, never seemed sly in the least.
So drunk they would cheat at the party games played,
Yet claim, unafraid, they were righteous and true,
As they threw up their hands to demand retribution,
For eggshell abuses with dubious claims,
So drunk, without shame, for their grabbing and groping,
And garrulous joking in locker room style,
Assaulting with smiles, while excusing rude gestures,
With wounds left to fester in revelers song.
So drunk, they prolonged each confused confrontation,
With inebriation anew the next round.
They drew in more crowds with the sounds of their rallies,
With math tortured tallies of who owned the tab.
So drunk, that when asked of them, “Where are the children?”,
They found they had lost them, and no one could tell;
Grown children themselves; where the tots had got off to,
With finger point purview, shrugged shoulders. Alas!
So drunk, they’d stab glass shanks from broken up homes,
Long after they’d thrown the last stone left to hurl.
They danced, spun and twirled around voices of reason,
Attempting to plea them to slow down their pace,
The intoxication replacing their senses,
To lower defenses they should have held proud.
So drunken with power and promise of glory,
They misread the story, all know ends the same:
When you rise the next day, in a fog, your head pounding,
In unclear surroundings, depleted and tired,
Unclear what transpired, bile bubbling up quickly,
As sadly and sickly, all sight spins amok.
With slurred, misaligned, words and terms in their speeches,
Trust crumbled in breeches among lifelong friends.
With rising intensity rude, rowdy rabble,
And base racist babble embedded in lies,
Quick winks of the eye to imply quips were clever,
That clumsily, never seemed sly in the least.
So drunk they would cheat at the party games played,
Yet claim, unafraid, they were righteous and true,
As they threw up their hands to demand retribution,
For eggshell abuses with dubious claims,
So drunk, without shame, for their grabbing and groping,
And garrulous joking in locker room style,
Assaulting with smiles, while excusing rude gestures,
With wounds left to fester in revelers song.
So drunk, they prolonged each confused confrontation,
With inebriation anew the next round.
They drew in more crowds with the sounds of their rallies,
With math tortured tallies of who owned the tab.
So drunk, that when asked of them, “Where are the children?”,
They found they had lost them, and no one could tell;
Grown children themselves; where the tots had got off to,
With finger point purview, shrugged shoulders. Alas!
So drunk, they’d stab glass shanks from broken up homes,
Long after they’d thrown the last stone left to hurl.
They danced, spun and twirled around voices of reason,
Attempting to plea them to slow down their pace,
The intoxication replacing their senses,
To lower defenses they should have held proud.
So drunken with power and promise of glory,
They misread the story, all know ends the same:
When you rise the next day, in a fog, your head pounding,
In unclear surroundings, depleted and tired,
Unclear what transpired, bile bubbling up quickly,
As sadly and sickly, all sight spins amok.
