She was fifteen. Her name was… what? Julie?
Age, names didn’t bug us unduly.
Free love, lots of weed…
Well, what more did we need?
She had nice tits. She smelled of patchouli.
Tag: free love
Flowers in her hair
She’d tuned in, and turned on, and dropped out,
Burned her bra! Her big boobies flopped out.
Joined a commune and all;
Dope, free love, had a ball!
One, two, three flower-children popped out!