All hail the non-smoker
Blessed is he, himself,
Upon all others,
Blessed is the house
Where all ends are present,
For it does tell the future.
Forget the tales, parables
Of our fathers,
Our morals are our own.
I am not my brother,
Nor is he me,
To compare
Is to deprive.
WOW! That's all I can see. I have read thousands of poems in my old age, and NONE have moved me like yours just did. Kudos to you, my young friend. You have a long and wonderful life ahead of you...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow. This is amazing. My dad smokes and I hate it. I'm also compared to how my mom was at my age a lot, and I'm sick and tired of it.