He lied about a cigarette
Told a stranger it was his last
Time would drip and he would regret
The grip on cursed pleasure he kept so fast
The smoke he blew and then withdrew
Liking it to a woman he once knew
His soul, pain and rust only to be placed in
But still he loved her as she defaced him
Like the ash, she blackened his heart
But like the smoke she shortened his breath
Nature came and played its part
And now he’s smiling at her till his death
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem