Once I was a herb addict,
Every night I used to need,
Lots and lots of fresh weed.
In my mind it sowed the seeds,
Of rebellion and angry deeds.
The world seemed to spin around,
Everyone who saw me did frowned.
Into the shadow I was regulated,
for the acceptance my soul waited.
They called me a fag, my future dead,
I don’t know what gave them my life’s lead.
To leave my habit I was forced,
To be cast in society’s mold.
But pray I ask all, what gives you the right
To judge me, to pass verdict and prosecute me.
What makes you greater than me?
And your lifestyle the right way to be?
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The poem is written by 
Amlan Shankar De, during our maths class.
He may or may not be high at that time, so copyright stays with him. 
