When the clock strikes four and twenty, oh what a sight,
A gathering of friends, all feeling quite light.
With pipes and papers, they gather with glee,
In the sacred celebration of THC's decree!
First comes the pre-roll, passed round like a crown,
With giggles and coughs, theyâre a jovial town.
"Donât bogart that joint!" yells a voice from the back,
As they launch into tales of a mythical snack.
"Remember the time we ate chips by the jar?"
One friend recalls, âDid we even drive far?â
Amidst all the laughter, the clock marches on,
"Hey guys, are we rolling? Ten minutes âtil dawn!"
The rolling of joints is a ritual grand,
But one fumbles papers, as high as he stands.
They laugh and they cheer, âYouâre a crafty poor scribe,
But fear not, dear friend, weâll revive this vibe!â
Now, come the munchies, oh, what a delight!
In cupboards and fridges, foodâs thrown into sight.
Cereal! Ice cream! Oh, glorious bread!
They feast like kings, as they stifle a head.
As the hour ticks down, they strike a bold pose,
Raise high their green treasures, in homage, it glows.
With a chant of good vibes, they bid time adieu,
"Until next 4:20, when weâll bid you adieu!"
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
