In those nights of darkness
All that can be felt is the rhythmic pulse
Of the music that permeates
The darkened hall and all those in it-

For in this packed hall
Do people lose themselves to the sounds
Of the computerized night
Where the scent of alcohol wafts up-

Into the homogenous scent
Of cigarettes and sensual musk
Which overcome all those who dare
To breathe deeply enough,

But in this hall where faint lights flash
To give some semblance of reality
One can see the intoxicated youth-
Just trying to forget the injustices-

That were placed on them
From debt to ever growing retirement,
Thus, is it any wonder that on weekends-
They drink and dance and take-

As many substances as possible
To forget their lives of repetition
Just for the time being?
But maybe the pursuit of bettering oneself-

Should cost so much
So that only the societal worthy
May rise above their self-imposed shackles,
Maybe then shall the dancing be sober,

Maybe then the youth will no longer struggle to breathe.