Stoned
Just a sniff or a whiff
soothes the soul,
a kiss of the syringe
fills with peace and joy
so great alas! Temporary.
Oh! what many'd give
to soar on wings eagle's
and to the highest peaks climb
amidst tunes angelic.
But many a soul oft shatter
under its grip inexorable,
bound in chains and iron fetters
to a sniff, whiff and
oh! A kiss of the syringe.
They sit back and fantasize,
but the Peace they seek
is naught but an illusion,
a dream they chase and ne'er get
till they bid the world goodbye!
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