DRUG ADDICT

Awww shite I'm outta dope
And don't know how to cope,
Stressful, searched, cubby holes,
Pursuing pot, my green gold.
Hoping there's a secret stash,
I've squirreled away a piece of hash.
Raucous rummage produces none,
I swear to god I'd secluded some.
That's the thing though memory goes
Composed. Disposed, thanks to blow.
Disremembering secret places,
Sherlock crumbs and tiny traces
But not enough for any buzz,
Mixed bits of fluff and other scuzz
I'll still inhale an' hope for magic,
Real eyes for real: DRUG ADDICT.

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