Biffdoggie
Test Monkey (Moderator)
- Joined
- Mar 29, 2006
- Messages
- 1,190
- Reaction score
- 35
When I was 19 years old I left on a cross country journey in a large, safari type mercedes bus. We went everywhere, all over the entire country, breaking down everywhere and partying with whomever we could find. We stayed at this "flop house" in Ft. Collins, Co. It was a big house that a bunch of kids had rented and ditched to go on "widespread" tour.
We came in at the end of the hurrah and the place was trashed, garbage stacked all in the back yard, everything just ruined. We crashed there for about a week and the word came down that the landlord had heard what was up and was on his way over, like now.
The garage was still full of usefull stuff so everything just got raided since it was all going to get trashed by the landlord anyway and we all grabbed assorted goods that we wanted. I didn't take much stuff, mostly things that were good for traveling but I came across a blank book, a journal of sorts, with a hard binding.
I have a tendency to write and keep track of my travels so I took it with me. It wasn't until months later, maybe even a year that I find, in the middle of this blank book, a poem...
A 4/20 4:20 wish.
On a dreary april day, I made a wishful wish,
that I could have a nugget in a bowl or in a dish.
The nugget would be hefty, oh yes it would be kind.
The kind that when you smoke it, you think you've lost your mind.
It's color would be lime, not unlike the hue of jello,
with crystals white as snow, that make you nice and mellow.
It's smell would be of heaven and the tatse would be devine.
I'd twist it in a cone joint then go find some friends of mine.
The nugget would be waiting, just like my friends and me,
for the clock to strike the minute- the wonderful 4:20
We'd pass it in a circle, that nugget would get puffed,
we'd puff it 'til our fingers burned, until that joint was dust.
But a wish is just a wish, my nugget just a dream.
If you've ever been without then you know just what I mean.
So to all my friends and phamily, please take a second puff,
cause on this sad 4/20 day, us convicts got it rough.
H.L. Tornabell
4/20/99
Buena Vista Correctional Center
We came in at the end of the hurrah and the place was trashed, garbage stacked all in the back yard, everything just ruined. We crashed there for about a week and the word came down that the landlord had heard what was up and was on his way over, like now.
The garage was still full of usefull stuff so everything just got raided since it was all going to get trashed by the landlord anyway and we all grabbed assorted goods that we wanted. I didn't take much stuff, mostly things that were good for traveling but I came across a blank book, a journal of sorts, with a hard binding.
I have a tendency to write and keep track of my travels so I took it with me. It wasn't until months later, maybe even a year that I find, in the middle of this blank book, a poem...
A 4/20 4:20 wish.
On a dreary april day, I made a wishful wish,
that I could have a nugget in a bowl or in a dish.
The nugget would be hefty, oh yes it would be kind.
The kind that when you smoke it, you think you've lost your mind.
It's color would be lime, not unlike the hue of jello,
with crystals white as snow, that make you nice and mellow.
It's smell would be of heaven and the tatse would be devine.
I'd twist it in a cone joint then go find some friends of mine.
The nugget would be waiting, just like my friends and me,
for the clock to strike the minute- the wonderful 4:20
We'd pass it in a circle, that nugget would get puffed,
we'd puff it 'til our fingers burned, until that joint was dust.
But a wish is just a wish, my nugget just a dream.
If you've ever been without then you know just what I mean.
So to all my friends and phamily, please take a second puff,
cause on this sad 4/20 day, us convicts got it rough.
H.L. Tornabell
4/20/99
Buena Vista Correctional Center
