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BIGFOOT 420


I was walking in the woods one day

In the merry month of May   (couldn't resist)

I was smoking a fatty

Hey, what can I say

 

I stopped by this stump

I had to take a wee

When a big hairy dude

Jump out from behind a tree

 

He sniffed the air

He looked at the joint

And with a dirty fingernail

He began to point

 

So I passed him the doobie

It was gone in one great hit

And as he turned to leave

I thought I heard him say "Good sh*t"

 

         THE END

 

 

 

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THE CROW

HELLO. I think that poetry should rhyme. If it doesn't rhyme, it's just talk. Poetry should be a celebration not a conversation. - The Crow

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