In a field where laughter and munchies abound,
The potheads gathered, eyes glazed and profound.
With pies piled high, like mountains of dreams,
They chowed down with gusto, or so it seems.
“I swear this one’s flavored like mango and bliss!”
One stoner proclaimed with a pie-smeared kiss.
The crowd cheered him on, though his voice wobbled low,
As he plopped on the ground—“Hey, where’d my pie go?”
With each slice devoured, they laughed and they snorted,
One player hiccuped and accidentally snorted.
“Is it just me? Or are these crusts a bit loud?”
The others agreed, like a high-spirited crowd.
As the bell tolled, crumbs flew like confetti,
With pies like the planets, but none felt quite ready.
They sat in a daze, with smiles open wide,
And counted their wishes on pie-flavored pride.
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
