Musing on a cigarette

By tan63

Fri, 15 Aug 2025
  • 65 reads
1 comments
 

Ahem. Ahem.

My favourite drug of them all.

It came from Mexico

to my rolling finger and thumb.

To my soft lips.

I breathe it in,

and out,

I give it life again.

Resurrected!

From leaf, wrapped in paper,

it turns to ash.

Into my tray it falls.

Smoke rises, smoke always rises

Certificate U
Poem
Spiritual

Comments

Submitted by randy-johnson on

I can relate to this poem because I used to smoke. But thank God that I was able to quit. Great poem.