My friend is being treated for cancer. He is taking morphine for pain, supplemented by dilaudid, but finds they make him drowsy and constipated (no surprise there). And he is forgetting to eat, and having trouble keeping down what he does eat. He posted on his blog that he has been finding marijuana very helpful for all these problems. So I wrote this poem and left it on his blog as a comment.
Don’t forget, in times of need,
There’s nothing like a little weed.
Morphine’s very useful, though
It makes things seem a little slow,
And stops folks up. But this is not
What happens when you smoke some pot.
Things begin to seem amusing
That morphine would just make confusing.
And as our brains fill up with light
We start to have an appetite!
Dilaudid? Sure, but who knows what
Is in that stuff? Whereas with pot,
We plant a seed, and watch it grow
About eleven feet or so,
Then put the leaves into a bong,
Organic as the day is long.
No added salts to make it green.
No phenyl-oxy-formaline.
“And God said, let the earth yield grass.”
(That’s in the Book of Genesas.)
Medical Marijuana
Don’t forget, in times of need,
There’s nothing like a little weed.
Morphine’s very useful, though
It makes things seem a little slow,
And stops folks up. But this is not
What happens when you smoke some pot.
Things begin to seem amusing
That morphine would just make confusing.
And as our brains fill up with light
We start to have an appetite!
Dilaudid? Sure, but who knows what
Is in that stuff? Whereas with pot,
We plant a seed, and watch it grow
About eleven feet or so,
Then put the leaves into a bong,
Organic as the day is long.
No added salts to make it green.
No phenyl-oxy-formaline.
“And God said, let the earth yield grass.”
(That’s in the Book of Genesas.)1