Trees Poem by Linda A

Trees



thank you god for the blunts
and for making me fend for my own
praise the prophets for this hunt
and all that they wrote in stone
I'm grateful to have borne the brunt
of the pains and things unknown
thanks be to the universe I live in want
- but we all reap what we've sewn
I thank existence and face blunts
cause it's better than burning alone

Thursday, December 18, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: smoking
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