A swig of ale for the good old boys, <br />Who play non-stop with old men’s toys, <br />Stay up all night not to read or write, <br />But to woo the girls or scare up a fight. <br /> <br />The good old boys of high school days, <br />Who saw that each day ended their way, <br />Squeezing out every single ounce of fun, <br />From twelve to three and seven to one. <br /> <br />The good old days with the good old boys, <br />I fondly recall every moment of joy <br />Of drunken haze and stone faced cheer <br />Of alcohol inspired wit, chants and jeers. <br /> <br />Now and then, gather the good old boys, <br />To rekindle the days of old with ploys, <br />Of grandiose parties and solemn reunions, <br />To gather again and resist separation. <br /> <br />For the good old boys and the good old days, <br />Will fade under the weight of our day to day, <br />And our friendship’s strength relies solely upon, <br />Our will to keep them close and to hold on.<br /><br />Warren Augustus de Guzman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-hint-of-nostalgia/
