ramblings and things

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sleeping rough

I raked in my baccy pouch
to find the makings of a toke
and pretty soon I was riding
that sweet magic smoke

stretching like a giant
a million miles high
switching off stars
in the night sky
riding a dragon
full of joy and desire
every emotion blazing
like a raging raging fire
but all too soon of course
came that moment when
my magic smoke dropped me
back into the real world again

where my sleeping bag
was far too thin and old
the concrete was hard and
that shop doorway too cold

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sleeping rough