Lung cancer

Your lungs are black and they start to decay, things didn't have to turn out this way.

You breath is short, the air is weak, tears start running down my cheeks.

You slowly drifting away from me to a place from up above, but no matter where you go you'll always have my love.

This all started with one little smoke, and now on the air your starting to choke.

I hold your hand tight to scared to let you go, you try to hide it with a smile but in your eyes death shows.

A couple days later I heard the bad news, all of my fears have suddenly came true.

So next time you decide to smoke please just use your head, because maybe if my aunt hadn't of smoked then she wouldn't be dead.