Cold Turkey Or Else Poem by Ima Ryma

Cold Turkey Or Else

Rating: 4.0

I'd died and gone to heaven high.
The shock had not worn off me yet.
What choice was there but to comply?
I sure could use a cigarette.
No butts were anywhere in sight.
Those doctors told me I should quit.
Unliving proof that they were right,
I sweated through my nicky fit.
St. Peter popped out of thin air.
Being a nervous newly dead,
I asked him if he had a square.
St. Peter turned to me and said,

'By God, no smoking. Hear this well -'
'If you must smoke, then go to hell.'

Sylvia Frances Chan 22 January 2022

Very amusing poem so keenly thought. This deserves the highest points FIVE Stars fullest. In previous years we had TEN Stars/Points, now reduced 50%, but still the highest score, dear poetess

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Liza Sudina 19 October 2015

Made me smile! Be healthy, dear!

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Theresa Moore 30 October 2007

Nicotine cravings have a hold on those who smoke. As a person who gave up smoking many years ago, I can relate to your poem. You have a wonderful way of expressing the addiction and the grave consequences with a flare for humor. Great job!

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Lawrence Beck 30 October 2007

Nicely done and very funny. Larry

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