Smoking In The Rain Poem by Stephen Wylie

The smokers stand in pouring rain,
No cool act can disguise their pain.
What compensation can they gain
For cold, and passerby's disdain?
The water streams right down their face,
As they endure addict's disgrace.

Even on a wet dark night,
They stand their ground without a fight.
Driven out from the warmth and light
They rail at laws that don't seem right.
What a harsh grip this curse attains,
Upon its victims' craving brains.