Crazy Smoker Poem by amar ghimire

The surrounding with the smoke,

Is the place where I spend, the most.

The unclear vision in that place

With aroma of smoke is the best.

Cigarette in my hand

Popping the smoking and firing through the air.

Dam car of other

Movement without Cigarette is rear.

Every time I smoke I aim to finish its life,

As it does to mine

The only friend in my loneliness,

By whom and for whom life is scarified.

Feel sorry when its ends

But I grab another and feel fine.

Again the same, we show our friendship

By targeting each other life

Every time I inhale,

I feel I m born again.

What’s true, nothing matter,

It’s how I live as a crazy smoker.