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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Emotional · #1249068
A poem about smooking and the relief it brings me.
For me there is freedom in a cigarette.
my stress is turned to ash falling to the ground--
Every suck brings me closer to relieving the stress.

The cigarette satisfies my hunger
for love that will never find me and embrace me;
the box of red and white is my coffin.

My death inches closer
each time I strike the match.
My voice sizzles in the paper.

In the glow of the cigarette--
there is a price to pay.
© Copyright 2007 Esau Jacobs (poetsaltlake at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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