Suburbanite Pothead

I hear the crackle of the burn
it enters my lungs....
.....hold it.....
....and release.
see the white smoke leave your body,
and what it leaves behind.
Soaked into your inner conscious,
through electrical impulse.

Hold it, man!
It’ll break if it hits the floor,
or flame, or smolder, or spill
into funny hysteria.
Just a stupid thing we do,
that...and release.

Here it comes again,
around the circle, is this the third time?
I lost track after the first.
Here there is much wealth.
Much love and peace and happiness and, well,
being.
It is infectious, so they say.
You'll get buzzed if you get too close,
to those who live by love.
It's a warning, don't be like -them-.

We have a higher sense of life,
a higher sense of humor,
a higher sense of what it means to just be...
higher.