Quitting Is Hard Poem by Samuel Richard Leonard

It was dusk. The sun bled through it's shroud of clouds, which rained down thin sheets of misty vapor. As night fell, and light seemed to elude my grasp, I clutched my blonde cigarette and kindled it's flame.

Evening had come around. The crimson sun peeked through its veil of thin clouds. Rain descended like an elegant fog. As the easy darkness enveloped the sun taking its heat, she wrapped herself in the warmth of the dark.

Dawn broke the glamour of the night. The clouds were fleeing, leaving a glistening dew over the lot. As the sun was reborn, my blonde cigarette had gone out and I left it put out in the ash tray, then fled out the door to get another.
- Samuel Richard Leonard