Daxus
Active Member
At 12:11AM December 29th, 2011 (or so says the date I put on it) I woke up still burnt from my nightly session and began typing madly on my computer, then rolled over and went back to sleep. When I woke the next morning this is what was there, I've never shared it with anyone yet, so don't make fun poetry isn't something I ever expected to be coming up with.
The grass does grow
In valleys low
On mountains tall and wide
With great stalks
Longer than dreadlocks
In places it does hide
Laid in the sun
Its time is done
And so begins to dry
The flowers cut
The beauty gut
And time begins to fly
Ground and burned
In paper turned
The end begins to smoke
Its master rests
In time invests
And begins to take a toke
And peace takes bed
Within his head
But none shall ever know
For fear of harm
Brings much alarm
For those that dwell not low
The grass does grow
In valleys low
On mountains tall and wide
With great stalks
Longer than dreadlocks
In places it does hide
Laid in the sun
Its time is done
And so begins to dry
The flowers cut
The beauty gut
And time begins to fly
Ground and burned
In paper turned
The end begins to smoke
Its master rests
In time invests
And begins to take a toke
And peace takes bed
Within his head
But none shall ever know
For fear of harm
Brings much alarm
For those that dwell not low