walk it home
By josef david
summer, saturday night... Shy boy creeps out of his shell... mom... I'm going to see the old gang... haven't seen 'em since I left for college. hours later... lying on my back... lying to myself... coolness of the grass... stars swing and sway the murmur of a party mixes with the radio... So social... yet so isolated... How am I going to get home? why did I drive a motorcycle? It's not far, but I can't... Lying here, even in this euphoric state, I know my limitations... It's not far... and it a beautiful night. I'll walk it home. Written June 24th, 2001 © on Jun 24 2001 03:55 AM PST 0 • 9
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"summer,..."