I'm old enough to stay out late
And legally drink in this old state,

We're celebrating our majority,
Sisters from a fine sorority,

Half past twelve as we five alight
From Scotty's Place, into the night,

A few bricks short of a load are we,
A tractor-trailer truck we see

Stopped at a signal and waiting there,
Sally decides to take the dare,

She dashes under the trailer's bed,
Then three more follow, none using her head,

I'm lured into joining, instead of the wait,
The diesel's now roaring, "Too late, too late!"

The pavement is fading from under my feet,
I'm buried in pillows and fall through the street,

Head downward, I spiral, a feather it seems,
And nestle in Morpheus, Greek god of dreams.

by D. Edgar Murray