"gunja" poems
Habitually smoking your gear
Drowning your natural drive of energy
So soon, a year becomes a week which lasts towards a
day.
Trying to reach a high you had in your teens
Sitting there watching your life go by
Until you're ******** by marijuana poisoning
According to your friends you don't
Have any
Straight people industrialise their circles
And despatch you into a corner
Where they keep the addicts, tortured and isolated
Within the buzz they experienced a decade
Ago.
Paying a fifty or more on something
That causes you loss of memory and an idle psyche
If you are not going to credit your ****
People will look beyond you
Even when they need you.
You are elsewhere in the invisible car-crash.
The relief of escape
the brave gunja smoking cool Mr Frosty
The idea of talking to someone like you
Has really lost me. He hides his snide profile, behind a ******
I just have a smoke now and then.
It depresses me just enough to be depressed.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC