Four inches of poison

It sits there and gazes up,
One little white stick,
With beige hair,
Tattooed with its makers name,
Dressed in its virginity of innocence,
Pure as butter would not melt,
Laying with companions in a house of gold, Glinting its reminder to you of a time to delve,
Into its contents,
With a flash of flame its purpose realised,
Smoke billows from its ember end,
Crackling and glows in blinding orange,
Heat hazes up from ignited ends,
Shortening as each drag ends its short life,
Closer to finger grip,
It delivers more of its four inches of poison, Thudding of its final nails deafened in silence, Bringing relief to cloud its victim’s judgement,
Its comrades wait in turn,
As packets empty,
Dishes fill with greying ash,
And bodies crumple in creased finality,
Its sufferers carry on in hope to beat this screamed warning, In black and white,
But ignored we spark life to the next,
As another nail thuds into pine boxes, Of our final resting,
Awaiting the soil to devour this life’s perception,
And we forget ourselves in histories tale of our life.

I had been smoking for going on forty years when i gave up two years ago, i still smoke the occasional pipe, cigar and more frequent, joints. I no longer smoke 20-25 cigarettes a day, and like the booze, i miss them. I vape now, and although i love it, its missing that certain something that cigarettes have.

The odd thing is we know these little things could kill us, they emblazon the packs with pictures that a few years ago would have been considered offensive, but unleashing them on smokers is acceptable? We have turned to be considered sub human because we like a smoke, but like booze it is an addiction, although cigarettes do not completely changed your personality like booze.

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