Nightlife Poem by Clive Culverhouse

Friday and Saturday night
it's late, very late,
kicking out time, streets alive
fighting, could be any night

finally trudging home
blooded clothes, aches, pains
bleary eyes needing sleep
urine splashed trousers, shoes

alcohol induced vomit,
spending time with police
injecting drugs, again
need to crash into bed

first, uniform in the wash
ready for tonight's shift
to repeat it all again
saving the darkness