Cigarette Poem by Rahul Aithal

As you hold me to impress,
the first error is made,
you use me in depress,
when nerves have frayed.

You roll me with your tongue
and slowly inhale,
I will enter your lung
to break and frail.

I ease your pressure
and calm your fears,
I become your treasure
but lessen your years.

I am your breath,
you are my life,
I am your death,
will cut like a knife.

Your days start with me,
I am an addictive device,
Now you can't part with me,
as I become your vice.

on your death-bed and energy seeping,
you curse, calling me heartless,
your eyes swollen-red and weeping,
I smile, seeing you breathless.