Taken out from a shiny pack of ten
Kissed, sucked, blown, and inhaled
Tar filled lungs full of love
Burning to death for the mild
pleasure of another
with nothing but the butt ends
remaining
Thrown on the ground
and crushed with shiny boots
with crap on the sole
Cigarette butts - you are the ultimate
masochist lover
Taking one so high to let yourself
lie alone on the dusty ground
ending in a pile of garbage...
Souren Mondal
November 26,2015
You can't buy packs of ten in America. I don't think I've ever seen one. I saw packs of five in Haiti back in 1974. Your poem is very good, and mentioning the crap on your sole was a nice, gritty touch.
This is a vivid poem and a necessary one, confronting not only an unhealthy habit but a sloppy one. Your poem is highly effective in making non-smoking liberating.
Verily, the poem brings out the true status of a cigar
Wonderful imaginary. So nicely presented the poem on addiction. Amusing one. Thanks. - - - 10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Amusing, I often wonder and have written a poem on Cigarette butts as well, the life swings 360 degree in few minutes, held in hand, frequently kissed and then bite the dust with hard crush....You nailed it in your poem..10+++
You nailed it too with the meaning of this poem as I intended Asim.. Some times we use other human beings like a cigarette! We use them to fullfil our means and then done - it's over get lost... Love like that nowadays.. We have lost the value of human relationships...