Nicorate Poem by Kewayne Wadley

The first time I stopped smoking
I asked God to fill my fingers
with something more meaningful,
Not quite the same taste
But something a bit more sweeter.
Enthusiastically, God brought me
To her - my heart pounded
The same way I'd hit my cigarettes
Against my knuckles before I'd
Open them,
Before I knew, she became my addiction
My more meaningful refuge
There isn't a Nicorate strong enough
For you
You've set a small blaze & I am
Consumed by all that you are