long after a full moon
had thrown its arms around the sky
I stood with Al Stone
ignoring the futility in our lives
adolescence gave way to manhood
or so we like to believe
our ideology stifled
from a serious lack of dreams
with the care of a midwife
removing a child from the womb
a marijuana cigarette was born
then quickly consumed
our reality now disfigured
discolored and frayed
the sound of a revolver pop-pop-pop
felt like a siren calling our names
along the asphalt we strode
where graffiti had not taken over
the corner of lesson and life
pondering the tips of our noses
underneath that streetlight
the story we all must tell
misplaced direction
led to a portal of hell
our lack of caution
our upbringing tossed aside
opened the door for the siren
that revolver in our eyes
angels decided to sing
that melody an alarming sound
wheels of society turned and screeched
leaving tire tracks on the ground
the order was given to freeze
alternatives held tight in their hands
one placed directly at my temple
a transition from boy to man
Categories:
marijuana cigarette, black african american,
Form: Free verse
The sound of birds
Resound like musical rhyming words
Melodic tunes
Sung throughout the late afternoon
Do those birds know what they do?
Would the still sing if they knew?
I am alone
As the sun begins to set
Alone I smoke a marijuana cigarette
The sweet smoke surrounds my head
All of the daydreams have up and fled
The nighttime comes to take their place
Its cool arms wrap me in a tight embrace
It’s not long before I go to sleep
My last memory causes me to weep
I am still alone
Categories:
marijuana cigarette, angst, sadme,
Form: Rhyme