To solve a problem you must be
Analytical and objective
You must include every single fact
And refrain from being subjective
Let's look at smoking impartially
And collate the various facts
Nicotine is a mild stimulant
I'm not talking through my hat
The drug itself does not relax
Infact it does the reverse
How can we explain this mystery
It all seems rather perverse
A mild stimulant is ruling your life
Yes, that's right, it's not even strong
It's got you at its beck and call
Stringing you all right along
A mild stimulant? The joke's on you
And all of your friends in this farce
This drug is laughing itself silly
That you fell right into its path
It has no power other than what you give it
It'll take whatever you've got
And use it against you mercilessly
It does that quite a lot
(Sydney, Australia - 2003)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
And I give it all the power I can, so that it may use it against me to the fullest extent. I rip off the filter, just to help them ruin my lungs, I hold it in as long as I can - that way the toxins are absorbed safe and sound, I empty my lungs before each inhale, so I can fill them with nothing but deadly, carcinogenic smoke. I'll chain a few, not because I have to, but because I want this for my body, I'm the sole property of big tobacco as far as I'm concerned, so I do my best to make each puff count.