misunderstood

I wrote this under the influence of cannabis.

Green is your fruit,

from which you will flourish.

Blossom and bloom,

ready to consume.

My lungs are your gate,

my only true mate.

A matrix of freedom,

in which you provide

an enhancement of living

they are trying to hide.

Gone are times when freedom was real;

human control should not be the deal.

Bad for my health?

Evidence is nil,

misguided people

swallow this pill.

My third eye will open,

I will begin to see,

taste and touch the sweetness of tea.

Sounds and nature, sweet harmonic tones;

angels, trumpets and devil's trombones.

My vision is clear, gone is the mist.

Why does this plant really exist?