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Just a cloud of smoke traveling through the air as I took another puff. Ill blow a cloud in a face and dare to call my bluff. An addiction that's controlled, An addication that is wanted. I inhale it in like two best friends, we bonded. My green friend I love, my green friend I cherish. If you disappeared I couldn't bare it. My cloud of smoke I inhale with love the bond I have with you will never budge.
I am a medicated marijuana smoker/patient and used to be commercial and marijuana has been there through the good times and bad and this is my tribute. I have various mental illnesses which cause me to be a different person everyday and marijuana helps keep me half way sane.
Look at my body. See my body.
Do you see all the scars?

The ones from when I was a little girl
and fell off my bike,
when I picked at my chicken pox,
when I walked through home depot just a little wrong.

The ones from when I was a grown up little girl
and fell down when running in the woods,
when I picked at my pimples and scabs,
when I walked and ran into the door just a little wrong.

The ones from when I was a grown up hurt, little girl
and carved a heart into my arm,
drew a checkerboard on my thigh,
wrote words into my stomach.

Every single scar on my body tells a story.
Some are happy and playful about a little girl who liked to wear dresses.
While others are sad and depressing about a grown up girl who
felt too much pain.
She had a soul, one that made her feel free. She had a soul, one that made her feel like a beautiful rose flowering. She had a soul, that made her smile so bright. She had a soul, even through all the hatred and treachery. She had a soul, one that no matter how much the world tried to break her she still stood tall. She had a soul, a soul that would carry on for centuries, bouncing and changing from person to person. She had a soul, that only certain people with certain hearts get to feel. She had a soul, one that only a few people in a lifetime get to have. She had a soul, a soul that would be carried on to only ONE of her grandchildren because it is so rare to be able to see the beauty of a dark world before her. She had a soul, a gypsy soul I might add. It is rare and beautiful. It is dark and mysterious. It is wild and adventurous. It is kindhearted and colorful. It is................Me. I have a gypsy soul. I am a gypsy soul. One like no other that cannot be copied or duplicated. One that speaks and acts on freedom, beauty, truth, and love.
Thank you for reading my poem. I hope u like it. I thought it and posted it right off the top of my head. I've never actually kept a book of my poems. I just think of them as I'm going with the flow. And i also know that not every poem has to rhyme so I hope u enjoy and get a chance to feel what I feel when u read this.
The blue skies and the white clouds,...carry the sun to it's forsaken place of rest. As it sleeps the moon kisses our cheeks in the night as we dance. Lost in such a moment like a trance. We're creatures of the night. Like a bat we take flight. Finding each other with a love so strong. Our sonic senses lead us here with an unbreakable bond. Forever in the dark skies we will fly, until the last breathe we take and say goodbye.

— The End —