Hippie

Tue, 03/31/2015 - 20:50 -- Latiaaa

You have ripped bellbottoms a shaky smile,
The sandy curls that cascade down your back.

You smoke till your lungs go black,
You sit in the blazing sun meditating till you go tan.

You play the tunes of The Beatles and Jimi Hendrix,
That suede jacket you wear every Tuesday. 

You decorate your room with blankets so the colors keep you company,
The daisies you wear in your hair till they go brown.

You let your cigarette dangle from your thin lips,
That gritty sound you make when you form words. 

Your eyes are always clouded with memories, 
You wear those circular shades to hide from people. 

You wipe the tears off of people’s faces,
Smile when theres nothing to smile about.

Your hands are tatted with henna, and you wear the shirt of a tie-dye spider. 
All you eat is trail-mix of pistachios and sun-dried apples. 

You ride in a Volkswagen with windows down to feel the breeze.
Your peace sign is like “the healer” to all pain.

You take a pull off hookah and a bite of shrooms just to chase away the madness.
You create your own reality. 

When the rain falls down you fling your head back and yell to the world,
The face you make when you see animals. 
He’s like an eagle, ready to sore through the sky and bring positivity.

Don’t ever tell me you’re not a hippie, because I’ve never seen anyone as unique as you.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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