Mary gone and done it this time,

Who knows what punishment she’ll receive for this crime,

I suggested that she do hard time,

Laboring in a work camp digging for copper and lyme,

Now wouldn’t that be prime?

Sadly, the decision ain’t mine.

Asked if she was ever sober from time to time,

Mary would laugh and reply,

“As long as clouds hover in the sky, I shall live high until the day I die.”

Marijuana was no thorn in her side,

and acid always takes her on a wild ride,

Opiate highs and fishscale buys-

Those special friends she could surely rely.

For Mary, humanity was but a stye,

Wondering why we can’t all just hurry up and die.

Never once allowed herself to cry,

Never one to lie.

Stopping at the bakery to for a blueberry pie,

Priorities when one is a slave to the high.

Gets out of work every night at seven,

From that corner 7/11,

Meets up with her dealer Tevin,

He shows her his weekly selection from heaven.

Her never-ending thirst had the power to deaden,

Those calloused hands kneading the daily leaven,

For the communion she takes every Sunday at seven,

A soul that winds itself around surreptitious sellin’,

A conscious the size of a pellet,

Better run and grab your precious Helen,

Don’t you know The Trojan Horse is comin’?

Next time you feel like bummin’,

Bored to the grave and idly humming,

Wondering if the clouds are coming-

Listen closely for the sound of drumming,

Sounds almost like mother’s mortar and pestle pummeling-

No, it isn’t a problem with the house plumbing,

It’s the faint sound of marijuana coming!

Uniting cats with fat British lads,

and Uptown dames all the same-

You can stop running,

It’s properties are quite numbing.

When life continues, steeper and steeper,

Who’s to say you can’t make it better with a little reefer?

The day came and went one fateful day-

Mary smoked a vape and went out to play.

Spotted mushrooms growing on the opposite bank,

Mary decided to swim-

The mushies would be worth the wait,

But she made a grave mistake-

Took the plunge after eating a whole box of Little Debbie cakes!

Mary sank like a witch to her grave,

Down to a watery resting place

Where the goldfish skate.

Rescuers arrived bit too late.

The body hasn’t been found to this date-

But my opinion I must say,

That Mary’s living in a sprawling estate

In the fabled Atlantis city state.

Passing around cannabis cakes, downing chocolate shakes-

Showing her new friends the right way.


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