A ghostly tail of smoke,
spirals through the air.
Twisting around and through itself,
until it fades away.
Tiny embers redden,
Dragged deep down inside,
patiently burn bright another,
And passively watch yourself die.
One last cigarette,
Quickly becomes ten more.
Temptation always seems to find itself,
Staring at hells door.
How can you complain,
About storm clouds over your head?
When you simply help furnish the fog,
With your persistent smoky breath.
Coffin nails,
Cancer sticks,
Tobacco feeds the bad.
To fight the nicotine desire,
You set alight another fag.
A pack expensively disappears a day,
The usual perils you remember to forget.
You're coughing half your life away,
On that one last cigarette.
