I got mixed up with the wrong gang,
They smoked Marijuana and said lots of slang.
I said ‘sure, ’ just to be cool,
But now you know, that I was a fool.
I was trying to be popular, as you can see,
I knew I shouldn’t of done it, I guarantee.
Now I’m sitting in my sullen grave,
Letting out tears, for I am depraved.
Throughout my very last days, I had a world of pain,
‘Cause smoking was ‘cool, ’ but damaged your brain.
So all them youngsters, ‘round about,
Please don’t smoke, you can do fine without.
It’s a sad habit, that none of us should possess.
So when the time comes, don’t say ‘Yes! ’
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh, why thank you! Most of my cousins smoke, my dad used to, and my grandpa did. My grandfather actually died because of smoking so I was pressed to make this poem.