Margaret Baker

Margaret Baker

Aldershot, Hampshire
Margaret Baker
Aldershot, Hampshire
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The Life And Death Of A Cigarette
If you smoke fourty cigarettes a day.
You won't feel life ebb away.
But slow and sure the signs are there
Brittle nails and greying hair
An old man sat upon a chair,
Fingers twisting his pure white hair,
Suddenly he gets up, throwing down his coffee cup.
Age he thinks is so unjust.


Margaret Isobel Baker 30 January 2018
I especially like the poem about the cigarette. It is a benefit socially. As an ex smoker and fellow poet, I can't help wishing I had written your poem. Thank you
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