an attempt at poetry

chapter 6: 'a night out'

Glimmering lights,

Don't even let see the kind,

Make up a fraud of a scene,

For you to twirl and glide,

Unknowing of your loss of pride,

You feel as if you fly,

As you bounce between similar beings,

All silently wishing to cry,

I'd wish to make this poem long,

But by how quickly the night goes,

The morning after you cannot describe it,

With anything else but a fleeting word,

For everything else is already forgotten,

As in whispers and glances that remain covert,

It comfortably travelled past everyone's tongue,

Due to the common need they all had to belong,

Having buried the limits they were never to cross,

As a cause of a sip of their shared wrong,

Which was, to their surprise, 

Hours ago already withdrawn.