Some people feel it naturally,
Others need a bit of help.
A lot of my thoughts come from smoking a bowl,
Lighting a joint,
And looking to my soul.
But there is nothing wrong,
With having to look for happiness,
Through smoking a bong.
Most of my fondest memories,
Came from when I was high.
My best songs and poems,
Were written with a joint in my opposite hand.
I also think that some people get out of hand.
They use other drugs to numb themselves instead.
They steal, lie, cheat and abuse,
Making everyone in their path feel used.
They physically hurt those around them,
And obsess about the next high.
Drugs are good and bad,
It just depends on the user.
Need to talk?
If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741