I was walking in Manhattan in May,
Past yellow cabs honking near Broadway.
The air felt busy, the crowds were thick,
Then came a smell- strong, sweet, and quick.
It wasn’t a pretzel or pizza slice,
It smelled like someone was rolling spice.
Not cinnamon rolls or roasted seed-
Nope. Just good old-fashioned weed.
By Times Square lights and Central Park trees,
It floated along with the city breeze.
Outside a deli, near a bagel shop,
Someone lit up with a quiet pop.
No one cared, they just strolled on by,
Even the pigeons looked a bit high.
It’s legal now, so folks don’t hide,
They puff their clouds with urban pride.
So if you’re in Manhattan and sniff something strong,
Don’t worry- it’s weed. You won’t be wrong.
Just smile and breathe (or hold your nose tight),
It’s part of the city, both day and night. 🌆🌿
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