Pot City
#25 of Poetry, both old and new
A poem about smoking. This isn't technically furry or not, but do you wanna guess what state I'm in when I write?
Oh, man... can you feel it?
Let's hit it! I'm down...
So much work to wear
The crown...
Pot city, can you feel it?
Let's be real; it doesn't kill;
It's not legal; still I feel
Regal...
If I can take a hit,
And nobody gives a shit,
Are we equal?
Can you feel it?
I got plans, you know?
But like my mans, I'm not
On the throne.
I can feel like an emperor;
I can laugh and I can cry.
But can you tell me
Why?
No. Pot city; that's where
I want to go.
Let me be! Maybe even
Leave me alone...
Give me white rhino,
Give me purple haze!
Let me float through
All of my days...
Pot city , grant me asylum!
And never ask me
Where I come from...
Give me glory, and
Give me peace!
Don't ask me to say
Whence, I can reach.
Shut up! Sit down! Take
A hit.
I thought you had
A frown,
This must be good shit.
You're over it.
Welcome to my town.
Pot city; pass it around!
And never ask me what
I'm running from;
Just hit it with me;
There's something
In being numb...