I'll keep on smoking, till my choking day of death...
I'll keep on puffing, untill, i'm out of breathe.
It must be those chemicals and that tar...
In this life as yet, i'll not never to go as far.
I've tried real hard to quit my deadly debt...
I've yet to meet the one i hate, not that one as yet.
Hypnotism and other ways, shall i never be to succeed...
That tobbacco leaf, i'll only need, that awful deadly weed.
I huff and i puff to get that choking feel...
Into my lungs i draw real hard, to get my, most in fill.
It is indeed a high, so good, that i try to grab and grab...
On that day, i draw my last laboured breathe, until my heart feels a painful stabbing, jab.
Yes those cigarettes, are hard to quit real well...
This i tell you deadly so, only time will guess and tell.
Until that sudden, dying day, then i'll finally quit...
Then i'll know that last hoped day, i finally found my wit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem