Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2019
By: Cedric McClester

Smoke a blunt?
Somebody's gonna!
Though it ain’t
The same marijuana
That they smoked
Back in the day
So what’s inside it anyway?
Truthfully, it’s hard to say

It might be laced with
Fentanyl
Until you smoked it
How could you tell?
Ya see, it’s properties
Don’t ring a bell
So their affects
Could be hell

And now they rush
To legalize
For the dollars
I’d surmise
Whether, or not
That move is wise
See those who object
Are ostracized

Yet all the evidence
Isn’t in
And that alone
Speaks to the sin
The wise go slow
But fools rush in
So John Q Public
Takes it on the chin








Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2019.  All rights reserved.
Written by
Cedric McClester  New York, New York
(New York, New York)   
1.0k
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems