Sometimes I think 7 days is just too much,
My hopes and dreams slowly becoming out of touch,
Smoking every night has been my only crutch,
Such, that everything I do is in a rush.
My friends and family don’t know that I need a push,
My only saving grace is a rolled up gram of kush,
Slowly but surely my mind must turn to mush,
Shush, if you tell me stop I will tell you hush,
I used to think about my problems on the bus,
Crushed, after 7 days I feel concussed,
Plus, it’s been far too long, you surely trust,
It has to stop, it’s now a must,
It’s just too much.
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