I flip it open.
Strike the flint
Which creates the sparks,
that are sent
To ingite the wonderful
lighter fluid.
It amazes me
how well suited
something that can fit
in the heart of my palm,
Can be so sweet,
and keep me so calm.
If only I had,
a cigarette.
Just an unfiltered camel,
and i'd be set.
But I quit,
4 days ago.
How did a once innocent boy,
sink so low?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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