With the Wind at my back
and my house out of sight.
I dig in my pocket of my jacket and pull out a cancerous stick.
Lighter in hand, I light up and inhale.
Warmth and a sense of calm overwhelm me.
Like a hug from a love one, I had a feeling of bliss.
But the moment passes quickly and I take another hit.
Exhaling the white smoke like a kiss,
I try to ignore the world around.
Focusing on my cigarette,
I see my worries drift away like a lazy river.
Feeling empty, I bring my problems back to my lips.
A rush of nicotine kisses flow within.
Seeing my love turn into Grey ash.
I take her last breath.
Alone again.
I lie to myself and say “ I'll find love again..... Some
day.....”
With a sigh, I flick the butt into the bay.
To be used, abused, and lead astray.
Smiling again, I pull my next love out of my jacket.
Toying her between my fingers, I spoke softly.
“My love..... You're just a sweet treat...... And your world is
my ashtray.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like how your comparing a cigarette to a lover! It's sort of true cause a cigarette can relax you like a lover! Good job! 10!