We all know that party,
where daddy's little girl perfects the art of being a whore,
where you find your bed to be the cold bathroom tile floor,
where drink by drink you sink and sink further out of reality,
where decisions are made; as problems the same, with your newfound drunken mentality,
where the shy have grown fearless with each sip they take,
where we see behind the Maybelline mask of those labeled as 'fake',
where morals exist even less than parents do, better yet,
where virginities are lost in the parents' room,
where the party thrower suddenly becomes 'chill' until the hype of the night previous has soon been forgotten,
where those who brag about how the police came, they ran, and weren't caught and,
where a sober minds silence is broken, where a magic marker does its joking on the face of those who partook in alttile too much smoking and now lay with their eyes unopen,
where with middle fingers up, adolescents declare their independence on school, rules and society,
where with red solo cups filled up, toast an end to all sobriety,
so to all those passed out masses,
of freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior classes,
that wake with their eyes bagging, pants sagging, and bodies dragging to find that their 'perfect night' is now over,
I'll laugh at all you Project X posers, those guilty of indicent exposure, and those who steal their parents closure,
because I'll be waking up sober.
Stephen Mateus
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sober-14/
