No Smoking Page 5 Poem by Deborah Cromer

Cigarettes kill, you know this, but yet each day you die
You matter more to me than you do to yourself, I don't know why
Reason to live is yours, I give you the power, I give you the gift
Your spirit will rise, with life your soul begins to lift
The vibrant, dark, red of life's blood, flowing deep and wet
Can lose color and stop flowing, drying up to pay smoking's debt
The wetness so sweet with life, shall dry and become deadly and dark
The color of death will paint itself inside, leaving it's mark
The rich breathing of air, giving you a natural high
Will succumb and surrender to sickness and eventually die
No chance given or offered in the choice to choose and live
No opportunity to be alive and fulfilled, no freshness to give
Rotten, dead, black cells that once lived, now stink
Cigarettes hung around your neck, into death you will sink
The freshness of breath, taken clean and pure from inside
Will deteriorate and take over, picking up that cigarette, you decide
Your decision to live or die is in your controlling hands
Marlboros, camels, and lights are all murderous brands
Why light up, why make the choice to kill yourself slow
It is not the pleasure of life that makes the burning butt glow
Tobacco, nicotine, rolled up into a stick of suicide so true
Wounding your life every time you suck in the smoke on cue
Do not let it rule, control and conquer your beautiful breath
Avoid the addiction, you can I know, flee from this death
Your heart, your lungs, and your bodily organs so strong
Are gifts for life to glorify temples of God in praising song