My First Cig Puff Poem by Neha Godambe

Holding that slender stick in between two fingers
Stance of an emperor of a classy empire
The curvy wavy smoke in air lingers
One cig in hand smartens your attire

I remember my first cig puff,
How I held its butt between my lips
An air of curiosity traveled down my core
As a friend lighted for me its tip

The lit cigarette brightened my ecstasy
And with pride I took my first puff
Smoke dint seem finding space inside
And I burst out, it made me cough

That challenged me to attempt once again
This time I felt my smoke-filled chest
I was gagged, hooked for a moment
It was kind of a head rush… at its best!

That whiff of smoke changed everything
Nothing seemed at its best without one puff
Did it taste that good? Hell No!
Then why doesn't puff after puff seem enough?

Soon my hands, mouth, clothes smelled the same
Seasons didn't matter, time did no harm
Every time I rushed to a clandestine zone
The moment I received ‘quench the flame' alarm!

I am not bad, don't hate me
It's a compelling force, I can't shun away
This addiction should only not invite my grave
Be my honest well-wisher, for me pray!