A Thought On My Generation

As marijuana was in the air
The words of my generation
Were inebriated in a pleasure
Of never known elation!

Laughter roared like the ejection
of a long slept  volcano;
Sense and reality was a meta-sensation
What they didn't will to know.


Nature was an infertile womb
As failed their minds to captivate;
Abiding in the oblivion of tome
What is designed by the tactful fate.


My generation is blinded by
The glittering of matter here;
In fits of passion they will to die
As marijuana was in the air!
                            ___Azrael Pavel