When all through the house,
everyone was smoking, even the mouse.
Munchies waited by their loaded bowls with care,
In hopes that 4/20 soon would be there.
All the stoners lay passed out in their beds,
while visions of bong rips danced in their heads.
I want to be the reason you moan late at night.
Not everyone is going to want, accept, or know how to receive your energy. Make peace with it and move on.