In a dojo filled with giggles and haze,
Competitors gathered in a THC daze.
With belts of all colors, they stood in a line,
But who could remember the moves or the time?
Rick, with a chuckle, attempted to spin,
His roundhouse kick ended up in a grin.
"Oh man, what was I doing? I think I forgot,"
He stumbled and fell—his high-rank was shot!
Lucy, so nimble, tried to perform,
A flying jump kick—created a storm!
She soared through the air with the grace of a dove,
Landed in nachos, oh sweet cheesy love!
Bob took a moment, to ponder and dwell,
Wondered what round he was on, wished them all well.
He raised up his hand, then still like a turtle,
“Is it time for a snack? Or is it for a girdle?”
The referee, blinking, unsure of his duty,
Declared, “Let’s take five, grab a bite—what a cutie!”
They laughed and they snacked, then back to the fight,
But arms were too heavy to strike with full might.
It ended in laughter, all folks now aligned,
With no clear victor, just friends intertwined.
So here’s to the potheads, who challenge the norms,
In the quirky world of high-kick forms!
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
