An original poem by Axton N.O. Mitchell
“Just a Stoner”
Smoke trails trace the edges of my silence.
Finding solace somewhere away from all the violence.
The world shoves it in my face.
When I light up this green,
I feel I may be healing.
Finally,
I can start to see a place for me,
with no misery.
Marijuana’s but a drug,
Or so they say.
I’ve never seen a narcotic be so freeing.
Just keep this between me and me.
Lost in the silence,
Ignited by the flick of a Bic.
Say it. Don’t spray it.