Dad was a chronic smoker.
He died of lung cancer.
Mum was a non-smoker.
She also died of lung cancer.
There was a question of why.
Of the same disease, both of them died.
In puffing he enjoyed.
Cigarette and cheroot he would buy.
For quitting there was no hope.
Mum passively inhaled the smoke.
He sometimes coughed out blood fresh and red.
Making us worry about losing him in hospital bed.
The final diagnosis was advanced lung cancer.
He died painfully 3 months later.
Mum was neither spared.
About 3 years later,
she also suffered
a malignant lung cancer
wiping her life severe.
To smoking I would say 'never'.
because I know it is a silent killer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A strong and sinister message on the evils of the weed.Very poignantly written Regards Steve