Poem -

The Smoker

The Smoker

I enjoy it more than the majority of things,
not 'vape,' like pineaplple flavoured smoke,
others don't understand about the 'light' drug kick,
they only say that you're going to get yoursef sick.

You can almost survive without some food,
of course, a drink is always a nice accompaniment,
I know that you can fool yourself the acrid taste is great,
and knowing that smokers are people you love to hate.

JR carried a fan around to blow the nasty smoke away,
no more pubs or restaurants now, clean so they say,
that your cothes smell of nicotine, you know what I mean,
Ma used to smoke Du Marier on Sunday, matriarchal queen.

You owe people - whose going to look ater you when you're ill,
OK, I'll give up and be healthy so that I'll always be alive still.  

 

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