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poem_033_High
A scholar of great achievement I am walking into this room.
There is a gravity bong, some weed, and everyone has a shroom.
The stench of blazing grass and drying fungi,
And now I realize they’re all getting high!
There are lava lamps, neon posters, and blunts all around.
The veiling is colored and the opposite is black ground.
I’m watching in surprise at all the stoners.
Not even the guys care about their boners.
One of them approach me a fatty in hand.
And something is stirring in my swear gland.
The perspiration is beading as he offers be a hit.
The peer pressure is building and I look for a place to sit.
Finally I give in and smoke the pot.
Now I’m beginning to smoke a whole lot.
One joint after another and then comes the gravity bong.
As they pass it around they start singing the Kombi yaw song.
DUDE! Look at my fingers I can make them wiggle!
Haha that’s a funny word. It makes me giggle!
I watch the smoke form pictures in the sky.
Oh my fucking god I’m so fucking high!
Inspired by/ Dedicated to: No one just my mind
Created on: May 4, 2005
