My Killer Poem by Gordon D Wilkinson
My Killer
Pencil thin, perfectly formed
Skin of alabaster white
Wearing your fancy collar tight
Restricting
Warming my intakes of breath
Soothing yet so dangerous
I am addicted to you
Flirting with the danger
As you touch my lips, I am lost
I cannot be without your touch
The taste of you is my one delight
Yet you destroy me inside
My one vice so deadly
Cigarette my killer
Love it but hate it. Its like your talking to a lover. But you hate them and love them at the same time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 4:23:07 AM # 1.0.0.1119
An excellent write, I think you have summed up how smokers have a love/hate relationship with their cigarettes. Luckily I managed to give up seven years ago, Lynda xx 10