THiS iS a PoeM iVe HaD FoR a WHiLe aND i DoNT KNoW WHo WRoTe iT, BuT iTS
CooL

MARIJUANA
What would you do
if it were true
that marijuana makes wonderful fuel?
Natural gas
given from grass
biodegradeable vegetable mass.
Behind the wheel
the hemp-mobile;
"Fill 'er up sir with semsimilla".
Do you suspect?
Do you conject?
Marijuana stops the greenhouse effect.
Green everywhere
filtering air;
acres of oxygen for all to share.
"Oh say can you see
the mari-hoochy
in the land of the brave and the home of the free."
Mind in a mess?
Suffering stress?
Roll up a round one and give it a rest.
Stomach unkind?
Can't make up its mind?
Fire up a fat one and it will feel fine.
Here comes a shock
conservative heart:
the Gutenberg Bible is printed on pot!
Not just the word;
haven't you heard:
even Old Glory is hemmed out of herb!
Don't just say nope;
no mind no scope:
the Mona Lisa is painted on dope!
Ganga I think
makes straight men blink;
consciousness covered with government ink.
They appear dense;
no common sense:
experts expounding without experience.
They just say naught;
no second thought
to all the prescriptions that they ever bought.
All is amiss
at the abyss;
all that seems left is a last goodbye kiss.
To scientists
searching the mist:
maybe the missing link is cannibis!
To polititions
playing positions
leading the lunacy lost to ambition:
loosen the law
drop the drug war
let reason all around the realm be restored.