By Nikki
Date: 2 July 2000

Cigarettes

curl of smoke
rising from a burning ember
such warmth from that glow
as warnings are read
on pieces of paper
inhale those
noxious
toxic
ingredients
waiting for the decay 
that is promised to begin.
wake up with a tight chest
too little clean air 
I'm bound to die of old age
before the cigarettes 
kill me....
Love always has the last laugh.

NL 07/01/2000

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