My cousin asked me if I could write one about weed, so I did in five minutes.

Ally,

Love your style, you know how to write....

2016_poets corner: Ally original post: 

The Farmer

Out in the meadow,

where the ringneck fly;

We plant our seeds,

and get so high.

We are the farmers,

of the big herb tree.

We take good care,

of our crops by night;

And when the cops come,

we’re all ready for flight.

We are the farmers,

of the big herb tree.

Walking down the street,

after midnight;

My body’s numb,

and I’m feeling right.

I am a farmer,

of the big herb tree.

See the lights,

all around;

See the lights,

I’m headed down.

I am a farmer,

of the big herb tree.

Sight goes hazy,

feeling lazy;

going crazy,

losing my mind.

I am a farmer,

of the big herb tree.

Smoke is swirling,

through my head;

Just want to go home,

and go to bed.

And dream of farming,

the big herb tree.