The Hoverer Poem by Alessandra Liverani
The Hoverer
Smokers love to live in Fantasy Land
They swim in its warm waters and play with its white sand
Listen to the announcements piped through its loudspeakers
They haven’t ever found a place that is any sweeter
In Fantasy Land they find that there are many benefits
Being a smoking addict, they don’t ever have to admit
That it is such a burden to carry on your back
As well as turning your lungs a nasty shade of black
Sometimes they take a trip over to Reality Land
In a helicopter, but it doesn’t go as planned
Because they merely hover twenty metres above
And then head back to the place that they love
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4/25/2024 4:57:53 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I never lived in fantasy land. I love carrying the burden on my back, and turning my lungs black. I love relity land, where I can monitor the destruction of my body with each puff I take. Fantasy land is for the weak, reality land is where the strong, loyal smokers willing to die for their addiction live. Praise be to nicotine.