Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Unique Mar 2020
green debris
all over tan seats
tree debris
my mom will get in and ask,
“who’s been smoking ****”

i’ll shake my head
at my clumsiness
**** you shaky hands
and a mind too busy

i’ve been waitin on a good high all day
too bad i spilled my almost rolled blunt
a poem by 16 year old me

— The End —