FOURTH ROOMATE

Am sitted outside this stairs,
The cold wind with my roomates we share,
I can fill the dancing of my hair,
With my roomates looking down there,
To the beautiful ones down there.

One of them lits up a cigarette,
I find my face looking at him in regret,
I would love to have a puff but i keep it a secret,
As my heartbeat to a fast rate.

The other then lits his weed,
He says its his need,
He likes the one with some seeds,
With a lecture that its his soul he feeds,
He would always love to pass it to his kids,
Before he permanently shuts his lids.

The other has a bottle of hard liquor,
Some courage before he seeks her,
He is worse without it a bit sicker,
It makes him a 'critical' thinker,
Though he might be weaker,
After some sips he always fills thicker.

Now that leaves the last of the roomate,
Its dark and i cant tell of his soulmate,
What he is intimate,
What gets him set,
Maybe you can come and find out in the night late.