More with the drawing lines

Back with the clawing rhymes

Off in the bygone time

Lyme.

You didn’t know it now it’s over

You couldn’t bro’ it now it’s colder

Tried to get ta steppin’ but ya 

            looked over your shoulder

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A fine place which I find myself is: Marijuana, or food? It is not well-known, I do not think, that I am not too fond of eating. Except that I do love to. But for the entrapment and the killing and the whathaveyou. And so Marijuana or food?

Fine choice that, as one rages like the monkey on my back, and the other a babe that just will not soothe. And what of it then I wonder, Marijuana or food?

But the one doth cry that they are not same, and the one satiates while the other permeates with the brain. And say now I wonder, if you are not slain, satiate the belly or permeate the brain? Like when one learns one will not go wanting, but hunger shall come again.

And so dare I ask it once again? To live in peace or to die in vain?