Stoned Sonnets

Sonnet I
Let us write to all who take part in this art.
The art of inhaling through a rolled up paper tube.
This unique intoxination that most of the young blooded take part.
Even though most call us low, filthy and lewd.
Because we inhale this leaf
or smoke it until we drop.
Because will inhale this powder sweet
or we snuff a little of the rock.
Because our eyes are never fixated on one paticular thing.
Because our minds are always intoxincated and our ears we hear them ring.

Sonnet II
I live in this clouded fog
and see the word past it's mask.
You live in clearity but
don't look even once past the glass.
So maybe I am stoned
baked, buzzed and high.
I rather be true as the white of my bone
than be forced to live a lie.
But then I'm coming down to this planet you call Earth.
And I mumble and I frown because it's this reality that really hurts.

Sonnet III
Irriability now takes hold of my heart
making me yell and scream.
Using my words to tear you apart
and make you bleed.
I need a fix to get through my life
I need to get through this mist
The need is stabbing my heart with a knife
and finishes the job with a good twist.
Taking another hit from a blunt and I am in the fog again.
And at these times you wish someone would be your friend.

Sonnet IV
Now the tears start to fall
When you realize you have nothing
and no one will answer your call
for help if be anything.
You are broken now
and alone in this world
because this substance was more important somehow.
And now you see that being alone is cold.
Nothing can save you from this nightmare-- reality.
This is your fault, civil hands break new mutiny.

Sonnet V
Now I ask thee to help me stand
on my feet.
For I lost my balance
and the sand is too deep.
Get me to the saftey
of the soberness
I ask you politely
with love and tenderness.
I am your friend and you are mine
please don't leave me one last time.

Sonnet VI
Stoned and baked
time to change my tune
and these habits must break
for a better me and to be better for you.
Buzzed and high
go back in your pipe
that Pandora's box I have shut tight
and now my soberness has sprouted ripe.
And now this tale is at it's end
and I am better thanks to you my friend.