Perpetuity

Here lies a refuge for minds united
in their sole complacency to go nowhere,
as if they couldnt get there fast enough.

"Hurry up or we'll be late to the party."

They might miss their chance to spin their night
into perpetuity,
loosely connected by random events
where faces change and the drinks stay the same.
To their numb delight. Night after night.

And tonight they sit emaciated,
starving themselves for the hell of it,
unsated because
they need more on our plates than this.
This mundane perpetual monotony
like perturbed slumber they can't shake off.

Taking off aspirations at the door like coats,
colored in a muted wanderlust
and left in a corner forgotten.