Weed Down

Rushing cars passing by The whooshing While I’m wishing I could buy Some ease Or sweetleaves This weed is different Harsh and polluting Drys out my mouth Leaves a film of something I feel it on my teeth And phlegm in my throat. The high is heavy and cumbersome Slowing me body and mind It becomes quite tiresome. I feel myself drifting to sleep As I turn off of 3rd street to the 110 In downtown LA. I’m not only high guy here. But I’ve had better weed. Weed which has a citrus tastes. Or is light and inspiring. Right now I’m only tired. And the red taillights Are telling me to stop.