I looked down at the sleeping babe
As her mother smoked some weed
And wondered how such diverse things
Could grow from just a seed

Contentedly the mother drew
Inhaling from her ”spliff”
Unconcerned, her little child
And I, both caught a whiff

The marijuana seed had been
Nurtured into bloom
Fed and watered tenderly
In someone’s attic room

From seed to plant then cigarette
Its destiny fulfilled
To cloud the mind forever of
Someone who was weak-willed

And the baby lay, still sleeping
From seed she too had grown
Nurtured by her mother, who
Now sat there all alone

Of father there was not a sight
But who am I to know?
And then a proverb came to mind
”You reap from what you sow”