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4.20 (Attack)

By Robert Potter on 13/06/2019

Four-twenty,

Lip biting plenty,

Heart empty,

Minds free,

Maybe too free,

Lemme check and see,

Vision blurry,

I panic softly,

What can it be,

What’s wrong with me,

An attack hits swiftly,

I inhale deeply,

The feeling fades slowly,

The crushing pain starts to flee,

Refusing the cycle seems the key,

Relentlessly, gently, internally won,

It’s Said and done,

It’s now four-twenty-one.

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