Smoking Poem by Ima Ryma

It was a bright and sunny day.
All alone I was feeling free.
It felt so good to get away.
And then the urge came upon me,
The urge to have a cigarette.
From my pocket I pulled the pack,
And using my teeth I did get
One to my lips, a practiced knack.
With lighter out, I tried to light.
Over and over my thumb flicked.
But each flame failed, try as I might.
It was frustrating, I was ticked.

A dif'rent approach need be tried.
I stopped my motorcycle ride.