Hippie
I am an old hippie
Grown weed in Mississippi
I like to think
As I row along with a drink
There are no politicians here
It's perfect for me and my beer
My hair is long
And in the age—they say it's wrong
That's why I won't share my beer
Their words sting my ears
I don't paddle as I go
I just drift and enjoy the flow
To be in a hurry on the Mississippi
Would age this old hippie
So I will just sip my beer
—James Collins
2024 nov 10
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