Poetry: Nobody Woke Us Up!!

Light weight drowsiness.
Loud yawn of liberated tiredness.
Self was in a communion with darkness, Sorrow and soul.
Enough chit chat had welcomed depression and self had been told.
Rolled up to be lighted.
A fire about to burn forever had been ignited.
Light it up the! The first spark doesn’t burn bright.

Sativa rolled tight, mixed with cannabis.
The first puff had choked the air, and Self thought deeply to Depression, if it was as it should be.
The second puff passed Self to Depression, Sorrow and Soul.
For a distinct moment, it was either a battle between Soul, Darkness, Sorrow and Depression.
An ocean too deep to float.
Shackles and pain had tied Self down the bottom.
Another drag of Sativa had Self to a final decision.

A friend and a foe.
The legs can’t be enemies with the toe.
Self was going to choose.
Each to another, which to lose.
Both is a win.
For each had another like a twin.
Self had the last drop and ended on a ride to eternity with death.

Hypermind