It has lost its spark,
Its draw and lure
Like the one night stand from a lusty bed.
No longer a moth to the pink booze-fuelled flame.
The vacuous occupants of hot and heavy bars,
Attract me less and less.
Distant are the memories of the great night out,
The random in that bar, the flirt and the pull in the other.
They all seem so young and insignificant now
In their trendy, trendy clothes and their funky, funky hair.
Was I ever really there at all?
Once the be all and end all of a Saturday night
Has been replaced with a bottle and a DVD.
Year on year the street never changes.
Each weekend it fills with those looking for
love - or lust - or shag - a touch of another.
The heavy heady beats
The sticky scummy bars.
No longer a part of my life.
I reject the invitation and feel no guilt.
I suggest a night in or a local pub.
Come with, come in - enjoy talking for once,
Somewhere we can hear without our ears bleeding.
I have removed it from my life.
Yet I am still whole.
©Katy Stewart March 2010