Cold Turkey Or Else Poem by Ima Ryma
Cold Turkey Or Else
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.'
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!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
10/8/2024 11:32:37 PM # 1.0.0
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