An Ode to Being High 

It's virtuous, it is indeed,
to see the man who deals weed.
To feel and breathe a tasty smoke
And when it's smooth,
Strait down the throat,
   In the lungs.
        To never choke.
To fill the mind with pleasure
And take the bodies pain.
To smell the green and feel success.
To sit with all the gang.

To fall in love (and talk to) a plant.
To mumble in a forgetful rant.
To seize the day,
To smoke, to puff - inhale away.
   And fly;
An ode to being high.

And near the finish,
   Take the kill.
Warm inside - no side of chill.
   Seeing things,
   Yellow trees and purple hills.
Being stoned beats popping pills.

As the last ash hits the tray,
Light a bowl and start the day.
Take a toke,
   Strait down the throat,
In the lungs.
      To never choke.
    Fly.
An ode to being high.


� Jody Pratt