Those were the nights!
When “pencil or penguin?” sparked fierce debate,
And someone stormed off—but never too late.
When lines on a page became battles and roars,
And we laughed ‘til we cried, collapsing on floors.
Those were the nights—
When Pictionary turned into philosophy fights,
Debating topics at three past midnight.
We argued like scholars, impassioned and proud,
Voices like thunder, opinions so loud.
And someone stormed off—but never too late.
When lines on a page became battles and roars,
And we laughed ‘til we cried, collapsing on floors.
Those were the nights—
When Pictionary turned into philosophy fights,
Debating topics at three past midnight.
We argued like scholars, impassioned and proud,
Voices like thunder, opinions so loud.
And oh, how we danced in the nights in between,
Like wild-hearted children in disco light beams.
Barefoot on carpets, or spinning on tile,
Every twirl, every tumble, lit up with laughs and smiles.
And oh, how we laughed in the glow in between,
Hearts wide open in each reckless scene.
We raced through the nights, side by side in our prime,
No need for a reason, no care for the time.
Those were the nights!
Of sweat and of spark, of logic and art,
Of battles and laughter and full, open hearts.
We lived every second with joy and with fight—
Oh, how we lived, laughed, argued, and found our way back for more
Those were the nights!
________
Written for all those who love game nights, and to memorize the Pictionary chapter of my young adult life.
