The Ever-lit Joint.

Image from Google, Edited on Photoshop. Credits to the owner/creator.
This post does not promote smoking in any form. Any reference to smoke is figurative only.

It’s not entirely true, is it?
That you’ve forgotten them.
Humor me here—how many times,
Do they really cross your mind?
How many times, do you halt,
And look the other way?
How many times,
Do you stub the burning end,
Before dragging the ever lit joint.

Whilst it might be true
That you’ve gone dark,
That you’ve stopped responding,
Or more accurately,
Stopped initiating the talks.
But it’s a choice, isn’t it?
To not think! Or being honest here,
To stop yourself before you think.
About the silence and the cacophony,
The bright days and the brighter nights!

And yet, they refuse,
To understand, to consider,
That the ever lit joint,
Might be suffocating really.
They just materialize one fine morning
And say you’ve forgotten them.
No, ‘Say’ is a light word.
They ‘accuse’ you of forgetting them.
And you, powerless like ever,
Give in and take another drag,
From that ever lit joint.

One Reply to “The Ever-lit Joint.”

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