I felt horrible about doing it, but everyone insisted to do it. It was just to much pressure. I was falling deeper and deeper into the dregs of society. Peer pressure was everywhere and eventually I would have to face it. I wonder if I can handle all the peer pressure, you know? Wear this, do that, say this, drink that. I know that I would have to face it but the question was when? Last Saturday, when John and I hung out he invited his friends over. They wanted to smoke. All of them said I would feel “better” in a way they couldn’t even explain, yeah right. Kristin said she always get, oh damn what was the word she used again “artistic”? Yeah that’s the word artistic. She said that once she wrote a poem about getting high and then all of a sudden she started to recite it, as if there was a piece of paper in front of her and she was reading it. If only I can remember how it started…. Hmmm…. Oh yeah “puff puff, pass pass, why don’t you take a puff on this green grass, roll it light it, puff puff pass pass” she said “lets get high and protest the war till the crack of ass, wear peace signs and bellbottom pants, puff puff, pass pass, why are you listening to me when you can puff puff, pass pass.” She looked at me and then at the joint and then at me again and said “Just do it! ” I kept getting a picture of my parents telling me about smoking and peer pressure. You know, after all those hour long lectures. Suddenly everything made sense.
melovebrianna love
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/peer-pressure-5/
