With cigarettes in my hand
I felt like a man,
with each puff I took
closer to death, I ran.
Cigarettes, each one I
lit fire and let burn,
I could feel the kick
making my head turn.
Tobacco wrapped up thin
and held in paper,
flicking in my mouth
made me feel safer.
Each molecule of Nicotine
that entered my brain,
soothed my body and
took away the strain.
But I have to pay the price
for the pleasures of fag,
I will soon be weak
for fresh air, i will gag.
My lungs will be burnt
by the soot and smoke,
My heart will be clogged
and I might have a stroke.
My skin might wrinkle
I might soon look old,
small mistakes added, will
put my life on hold.
Vikram G. Aarella
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/00-with-cigarettes-in-my-hand/
