Sitting up in his room.
Smoking his stash and trying to forget he´s a cripple.
He spends ample time in the gloom.
Thinking of his dak plants and the neighbours nipples.
His mum comes down to see him off it´s like he´s four again!
Dealing out the orders and medication.
Like a miracle he´ll rise from the wheelchair one day.
And enjoy more than thc and masterb@tion.
He will walk again his face will no longer be a window.
His legs and back will take his weight.
Deep down he too really knows.
It´s just a matter of letting go of hate.
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