Paper Trained

What is wrong with me today 
is nothing too concerning, 
if you lift the lid, like kids do, 
when they're pot e-learning. 

See my witless shit arrayed, 
displayed before you. Flush,   
and send - I now append 
all this with a pot rush: 

Baa Baa, black sheep.
Have you eaten weed? 
Yes sir! Yes sir! 
I just planted a seed 
of thought into your pasture 
of pleasantries, and pain 
relief. I mean, 'Good grief!' 
It looks like Charlie; brown, again.