I Got High

My Modern Met


I got high.

Lucas had bought
Charlie's special concoction
Of weed laced with coke,
With a hint of extasy.

In Lucas' basement,
We partook in our
Little bount,

The smoke filled
The little room,
Dissolving the walls,
Leavind us suspended
In a technicolour space.

Just when we thought
We couldn't get any
Higher,
We found ourselves kitted
In astronut gear
Floating in a space
So bright, the air
Looked like clouds.

I got high,
The only problem is
I never got low.
I died in Lucas' basement
In a smoke
That dissolved my existence
To nothing.

This poem is the end of the challenge, hopefully, I will come across another series of images I can use to challenge myself.