CANNABIS Each foreign land, has it’s own brand’ There is of course, home-grown.

Most of it’s grand, easy to stand, With some, your mind is blown. It’s found it’s way, smoked every day, In every walk of life. From working men, to congressmen, Even the preacher’s wife. It can cause good highs, strange looking eyes, It will make your mouth feel dry. Makes food taste good, music understood, Make you laugh until you cry. You can talk to others, it calms the nerves, Helps you be as you are. But like a drink, so don’t you think That you can drive a car. You’ll feel each bump, rattle and thump, Slow down a block away For a yellow light, want left, turn right, You might even lose your way. You’ll tend to forget, the end of it, (Whatever, you were saying.) You can look down, towards the ground And see that you are swaying. A lover’s touch, can mean so much, Send shivers down your spine, And when in bed, what can be said, Except, that it is so fine. To help eyesight, ease cancer’s plight, And who knows, maybe more. Good things to come, from that plant some Of those, ignorant, ignore. It’s made illegal, the paper eagle Is spent to promote crime. It could be sold and be controlled Don’t you think it’s about time.

So, maybe some day, under table pay Won’t stop legalization. But, until then, with a silly grin We will just bear our frustration. Del “Abe” Jones

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