The Smoke
In the dark of night
I face an inner brawl—
Should I, or should I not,
Answer the pressing call?
I light my pipe
And inhale the holy smoke
With a sigh I let it out
And enjoy the wicked toke
My pain, it erodes
A better mood I find
My mind expands
And I lose track of time
There are many drugs
Numb they make me feel
But weed is not like them—
It helps my soul to heal
Oh holy smoke that I enjoy
Give me that good old mellow glow
One more time, let me have
That great feeling I want to know
About the Creator
Mark Stigers
One year after my birth sputnik was launched, making me a space child. I did a hitch in the Navy as a electronics tech. I worked for Hughes Aircraft Company for quite a while. I currently live in the Saguaro forest in Tucson Arizona
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