My alcohol, and the green cloud.

The alcohol is unleashed, pouring and unmeasured,
Sipped in big and small gulps, the taste treasured,
Some start off with a cautious and hesitant no,
Before you know it, you just don't seem to know!

Some go down in a quarter and float, some in two,
Some bear and sit tight, some run off to the loo,
The gold in the glass, like aristocratic brands,
Sharing labels of JD, Teacher's and Grant's.

While the highness starts kicking in, tied in a roll,
Is mashed greenery, one that liberates your soul,
Cattle graze it, but they smoke it in the air,
From tipsy to buzzed to GONE - building layer by layer.

The room becomes a mistful entrance to heaven,
The mind walking a satiable, gleeful terrain,
Wavelengths of psychadelic effects, hip shaking and dancing,
To the overtones of podcasts and Kamasutrance-ing.

And the day you decide, "Alright, this is it!"
"No more, that was definitely the last bit!"
You wake up next morning, with a hangover and a cry,
And realise your facebook status reads, "Fuckin high."