A deck of cards,
Chicken soup and bread,
Hip-hop beats from the album Nirvana.
A gang of friends,
A crazy conductor playing six pianos,
Laughter cutting across the room.
It was bound to be a short night,
As sleep vacated our buzzing minds,
Against an onslaught of animated chitchat.
Every sentence come out unmeasured,
Each word lingering a midst eager faces,
All seemingly synced to one verbal discourse.
Each noun an ounce heavier than usual,
From horror series to poetry and back to movies,
From harps to violins and back to music.
From power plays to love and back to philosophy,
From critique to phishing and back to coffee dates
Drifting off-topic, back and everything in between.
The night quickly weaned off unnoticed,
Giving way to the wee hours of the morning,
And the sun rose to a never ending converse.
Script n Rhyme