The wind made me cold today,
reminded me of things you'd say.
Sent a chill up and down my spine,
only as a ghost are you now mine.
Heading home I was to be alone,
get so high and zone into a stone.
Then some drops rained on my arm,
ghostly now you feel no harm.
Sped my steps to reach my door,
now I'm high laying on the floor.
ha, ha, ha, ha.
I can rhyme.
-
Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 1st, 2025 05:22
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments1
Was this really written during a high? A good poem that speaks of feelings of loss and melancholy. It reverts to more comfortable feelings and a sense of playfulness. Nicely done
I write a lot high.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.