Sister Sleep

We like to smoke pot
We like it a lot
Our small eyes are tearing for what we have not
The nice pipe is here
A lighter is near
I won't become freaked out, fear not, sister dear
We miss the blue sky
It is cold, we will cry
Our being mind is waning and we now know why
We want to feel warm
Yet outside the norm
We want to be a cradle: held and then to be reborn