Oh, the joys of a stoner, so blissfully high,
Floating on clouds with a twinkle in eye.
But beware, my dear friends, for there's more to this tale,
Of missing your train, and forgetting your bail.
With a puff and a pass, the munchies take hold,
You promise yourself that you won’t be so bold.
Yet there’s cookies and chips that call out your name,
And soon you’re just sitting, consumed by the same.
Your phone buzzes loudly, a message from Bob,
You swipe to reply but just can't find the job.
Was it "hey" or "yo," or did I say "gob?"
Now you're lost in a text, feeling slightly like a slob.
And then there's the couch, that seductive old friend,
Whispers of comfort, “Come on, just pretend.”
Four hours pass by, you wake up in a haze,
Wondering if life is just one long, lazy phase.
There’s that time at the store for your late-night munch rune,
You wander the aisles, singing songs to the moon.
But leaving your wallet behind can feel dire,
As you wave goodbye to your late-night desire.
But fears not, dear pals, for each giggle and grin,
Is worth all the chaos that life can spin in.
For stoners may stumble, yet joy is their guide,
In this wacky adventure, they merrily glide.
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
