Winter shakes <br />some snow <br />and blows <br />cold air <br />and we stand <br />on a heating vent <br />outside <br />near the university <br />drinking <br />cheap beer <br />listening to <br />heavy metal <br />and smoking <br />salem cigarettes. <br />The night is <br />in full swing <br />and most of us <br />are getting <br />a little too old <br />to hang outside <br />like bums <br />and drink <br />and bullshit <br />out nothing <br />that will <br />mean something <br />but kill <br />another hour or two. <br />The dollars are <br />hard to find <br />and four years ago <br />feels like a lifetime <br />when you are 22. <br />We stood, <br />all seven of us <br />bobbing heads <br />to loud <br />senseless music <br />coming out <br />of an oversized <br />poor sound quality <br />boom box <br />with a cassette player. <br />We pass a joint <br />of cheap homegrown <br />prematurely dried weed <br />pretending to get high. <br />The conversation <br />goes nowhere <br />and we all know it. <br />We look at <br />one another <br />and see <br />our stop <br />is coming <br />nothing is forever <br />and life pulls <br />out the rug <br />we once found <br />so comforting <br />and replaces it <br />with a conveyor belt <br />and we do nothing <br />to get off <br />as we slowly <br />roll off <br />the last stage <br />of our innocence <br />the boyzz become men <br />and after this <br />it just isn’t the same <br />we know it and we <br />do nothing to stop it <br />from happening...<br /><br />Charles Lara<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/footprints-25/
