This is a semi-satirical poem about the sherm stick.
Oh hateful sherm stick,
why must you entice these fiends,
these imbeciles,
with your diseases, your chemicals
and then you just disintegrate,
continuing to pollute our souls.
While babies sleep,
with their innocent minds and fluffy blankets.
Yet you,
unremorseful sherm stick,
do not care.
No.
All you see is money, and bright colors.
Changing colors, and acid.
Oh hateful sherm stick,
can't you just leave our streets,
and burn out your flame.
Leave the embalming fluid to the morgue.
Stick something else in your pipe,
and smoke it.
Published by Brandon Elliott
17 Years Young // Writer // Intelligent // Knowledge-Seeking // Poetic Because I Can Be // twitter.com/brandonrofl // brandoniswrite.com // View profile
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7 Comments
Post a CommentOkay I had not heard of this, and hopefully will never need to know about it, but great writing.
Gross item, but funky idea for a poem. Cool.
It sounds great out loud!
They call them wet sticks in Cleveland. I cannot imagine smoking embalming fluid. Nicely written.
Oh, and I don't do any hard drugs, either. It's a shame we live in such a drug-paranoid society that we have to put little disclaimers on some of our more controversial work, lest the tiny minds among us let their over-active imaginations run wild through the maddened crowd. Again, I dug this and caught the irony.
This one had me trippin' balls, dude! Well done (I had always known a 'sherman' to be a doobie dipped in liquefied PCP, but hey, ya loin somethin' new every day!). Good job. I just added ya!
I'm glad you explained what it is before the poem started!