I would venture to say that this poem speaks for itself and needs no introduction, but obviously this little blurb is an introduction of sorts. I hope you enjoy my second post of the day. Yes, this poem includes "bitches" and "shit." Get over it.
The Evolution of Partying
When you're seven, parties are filled with
Barbies, ponies, princesses, and pink galore.
When you're sixteen, parties are filled with
Short skirts, chaperones, and grody boys hoping for more.
When you're eighteen, parties are filled with
Hot tubs, invincibility, and acting too old for your britches.
When you're twenty one, parties are filled with
Alcohol, debauchery, and fights between crazy bitches.
When you're twenty five, parties are filled with
Alcohol, late nights, and the realization of
"I'm too old for this shit"
At this point, you've probably started
Taking care of others who are beyond lit.
When you're twenty seven, parties are filled with
talk of engagements, weddings, and little ones
My, how parties change along with our idea
of what's fun.
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