Smokey Temptation

 

There they sit; slim and straight,

taunting me, tempting fate.

I sit, fidget and squirm,

a desire to affirm

they hold no sway o’er me.

A lie for all to see.

Cigarette, fag or smoke;

all words on which I choke,

my need for nicotine

alarming and obscene.

My resolution weak,

I have to go and seek

any small distraction,

finding satisfaction

in ought but cancerous

drugs found so glamorous.

But alas, here I fail,

here I start to derail.

Shaking hand reaches out,

my cravings scream and shout.

A small white stick sits there,

addictive, it ensnares

all ages, young and old,

more dangers yet untold.

A small spark builds a flame

to burn away my shame.

I breathe in sweet relief

whilst feeling deepest grief;

failed again I fear.

I’ll try again next year.

 

Smoke

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