Mary Jane

Oh sweet Mary Jane.

You drive me sane.

Right through my brain.

With your thick, sweet smoke.

Filling my lungs and tickling my throat.

And I cough and I choke.

Buy your time until I'm broke.

You're not like the other folk.

Obscene, mean, lady in green.

These are the confessions of a weed fiend.

If you get what I mean.

And I hope you do.

'Cause this poem's getting tired.

I think I'm through.

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