'I Smoke Second-Rate Cigarettes...' - Poem by Thomas Dorman
I smoke second-rate cigarettes,
But I got first-rate regrets.
I got ex-lovers, and something once a mother
But neither of their loves could smother
Me into the deep dream that is this disease;
Could push me of the edge with such ease.
I'd say it was something in the blood,
Sleeping, lying, hiding little flower bud
Ready to spring open, pounce on my mind,
Ravage my soul - make me colourblind
To the small print, the black & white
Of all the last-minute kisses at night.
Once upone a time there was little nancy boy:
Little imaginer, dreamer; living it coy -
Avoiding all men, avoiding all life
Until the day he carries a heavy knife:
'Til the day he takes umbridge at those
Who try to pry beneath his lowly clothes
And an end comes to his defensive mechanics,
And the world wants to invade his systematics.
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