Be A ''Good Kid'' And Roll Me A Joint Poem by Mary Nagy
Be A ''Good Kid'' And Roll Me A Joint
When you are nine years old
and sifting the seeds out
of your parents pot for them,
you can't really preach
about the dangers of cigarettes
and second-hand smoke...
even though you know them.
You know better than to miss a seed
and let it ''pop'' while they are smoking it.
''What are you lazy or just too stupid? ''
''Is it really that hard to make sure
all the seeds are out? ''
Once you've proven yourself with the sifting job,
maybe they'll think enough of you
to actually let you roll one.
If you're lucky.
Then you're a real ''big helper''.
Then they really like having you around.
Because they love you.
But, if you're stupid enough
to roll a joint that isn't tight
or comes apart while they're smoking it...
you'll be sorry.
Because then they'll tell all their friends
just how stupid their worthless kid is.
''Stupid kid.
Can't even roll a good joint.
What good are you''?
Just wait...you're almost ten.
Then they'll have you smoke one yourself.
''It'll make you much cooler.
Because you're such a dork.
You really need help''.
It does not matter if this poem is about you and your parents, or some other kid. It hurts me to the bone to see the pain, the disrespect for the child within, the longing from the child to 'do good' in her parent's eyes. It could not have been told any better.
Is this about your parents or someone else's parents?
Dear Mary This Child within can take it from me, a complete stranger, YOUR NOT STUPID! Conditional love has never been your fault. Love.Duncan
Nice work. Not having been particularly impressed with the work of my own parents in raising me, I was immediately drawn into the poem. Holding back as you did, and understating the circumstances, which are upsetting to say the least, you allow the poem to slap the reader awake. I'm impressed, and I'm as uncomfortable as I should be, knowing things like this didn't just happen in the past; they are happening this minute.
Innocence is so easily taken away from us and the affections of our parents, sometimes, not so easily won. The words from a memory of a child that show us our childhoods are sometimes never as happy as we would like to remember. Paula x
MARY...AND TO THINK...WHETHER IT BE A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE OR NOT...YOUR WORK IS BASED ON REAL CONCERNING FACTS...SOBERSOME READ...'''''''''FRANK
Oh wow, way bad parents for sure. This is so personal, so poignant - and, I expect, cathartic. It just killed me, and I don't mean 'made me laugh' - I can see you've transcended a lot. From your other poems, I see you've made it to a place of light - but, having seen the darkness, are we ever the same?
Yikes! How sobering. This poem flows along so nice and matter-of-fact -really brings home the sad reality of this poor kid. Unfortunately this scenario is being reinacted far too often today. Although it is painful, we do need to hear it. Great work, Mary! God Bless you-TGR (Theresa)
this couldnt have been better worded! ! it`s true, childrens minds are corrupted with what their friends think and they influence them and all, they rarely listen to their parents and such. but they do learn and all, well most of em i love it. <3
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/5/2025 12:19:24 AM # 1.0.0
So this is what it's come down to Childhood innocence corrupted By thoughtlessness by a parent. Reminds me of someone I know VERY well... or do not know. Heh, poems like this make me want to be an even better parent... well... when the time comes by to be one. - K.