Won't you indulge in me.
I deprive off any-one,
Who smokes me constantly.
You can find me any-where,
for I'm not that very far.
I'll grow in fields, flowerpots,
and even your back yard.
I don't torment minds,
I won't oblige you to die,
I'll always keep you relaxed,
and very much satisfied.
So, roll me up -- or stuff me in a bowl.
Just smoke me one time,
and I bet I'll get sold!
Back to Poetry IndexNext Page