In a circle we gather, with munchies in hand,
Thoughts swirling like smoke, oh, isn’t it grand?
With THC tickling our minds like a breeze,
We’re poets, we’re sages, we’re true G’s on our knees.
“Yo, check out my verse!” yells a friend in a haze,
“It’s about a small frog who has dreams of a maze.
He hops on a skateboard, he does flips in the park,
And the pigeons all cheer—wait, what was that spark?”
With giggles like bubbles, we lean to and fro,
Feeding off madness, our creativity flows.
“Roses are red, but I lost all my pens,
So I’ll write this in cheese puffs, let’s see what it ends!”
We rhyme about tacos and the moon’s shiny glow,
With clever metaphors that only we know.
“Life is like ganja—smoky, sublime,
And inspiration hits at the most inconvenient time!”
But soon we forget where our masterpieces lay,
As we munch on each other’s profound words today.
With laughter and outbursts, our sonnets take flight,
Till we pass out all stoned, ‘neath the soft, starry night.
So here’s to our scribbles, to verses and dreams,
To friends caught in weed-scented poetic schemes.
May our laughter linger, as high as we climb,
In the wobbly wonder of stoned, silly rhyme!
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
