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Prerolled Weed Joints |The Gryphon’s Lament

Prerolled weed joints a lost art? This recently discovered poem dictated by the Gryphon who in Wonderland laments the good old days… When dexterity, patience, and necessity required knowing how to roll your own! Wonder what the White Rabbit would say? Because time is of the essence!

Prerolled Weed Joints, The Gryphon’s Lament

the gryphon's lament of prerolled weed joints

‘Twas a curious trend, the Gryphon declared, As he sat by the fire, quite deep in despair. The art of rolling joints, with nimble fingers fine, Had been replaced by “prerolled,” and that was the sign.

In days of yore, we’d gather ’round, With papers and herb strewn on the ground. Fingers deftly crafting, the joint would take shape, An art form, a skill, we’d celebrate and gape.

But now, alas, the times had changed, The world of prerolled joints rearranged. People had lost their rolling touch, Opting for convenience, they’d say it’s not much.

Prerolled weed joints!

The Gryphon

“Prerolled weed joints!” they’d chant with glee, Convenience over skill, oh woe is me! No longer would they roll with care, The Gryphon lamented, pulling out his hair.

Lo, n’more the joy of crafting your own, Of choosing the paper, the size, the cone. No more the pride in a perfect twist, Now it’s just grab and go, they insist.

The Caterpillar, puffing on his hookah, Said, “Gryphon, my friend, don’t be such a shook-up. The times, they do change, as you must admit, And sometimes we must simply submit.”

But the Gryphon was resolute, he wouldn’t be swayed, He’d rant and he’d rave, his point would be made. “For rolling your own is an art, don’t you see? A skill to be cherished, like making fine tea!”

He continued his lament, in a voice quite loud, Drawing a curious crowd of creatures, unbowed. “Prerolled weed joints, they lack the finesse, Of rolling your own, it’s a clear regress!”

The Cheshire Cat appeared with a grin, And said, “Gryphon, my friend, you’re in quite a spin. It’s true that prerolled joints have their place, But rolling your own is not a lost grace.”

The Gryphon turned to the Cat with a glare, His feathers all ruffled, his beak in the air. “Prerolled weed joints, they’re mass-produced, you see, No personal touch, just uniformity!”

The Mock Turtle chimed in with a sigh, Saying, “Gryphon, dear friend, please don’t be so high. Prerolled joints may lack that personal touch, But they do have some benefits, as such.”

“They’re convenient and discreet,” he went on to say, “Perfect for a quick toke on a busy day. And for those who struggle with rolling finesse, Prerolled joints provide them with no less.”

The Gryphon pondered these words for a bit, And slowly, his anger began to submit. Perhaps, he thought, there’s room for both, Prerolled and hand-rolled, they could coexist, oath!

So, he joined the others in a circle of peace, And they all partook, the joint did not cease. For in Wonderland, it’s a place of delight, Where all forms of cannabis could take flight.

And as the smoke wafted up to the sky, The Gryphon felt a tear well in his eye. “Prerolled weed joints,” he mused with a grin, “They may have their place, in this world we’re in.”

So, in Wonderland, the old and the new, Hand-rolled and prerolled, they happily grew. For as times change and trends come and go, In Wonderland, there’s always a curious show!

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