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Did you hear the night scream?
Your days turn into night. After the lights dim,
Full moon is aglow.
Your veins will rise like a Necropolis,
Waking the city of the dead.
Smoke billows from the sky this habit will make you die.
Armed with a patch, only the surface will this scratch,
Self inflicted addiction.
You stagger to the kitchen & take out a knife.
Only to waken by the wife.
The cigarettes why are you cutting.
You cannot amputate this affliction.
This is the situation your lungs are full to saturation of tar & gum.
The commercial world, is banking on the fact you are just plain dum.
They know you will pay to extract the tar.
So much after years of smoking you could fill a jar!
You know you look cool when you light up at the bar.
But one has to tell you, life can make you a fool.
Your mind wants the high of another fix,
Just get me another few of these cancer sticks.
Draw upon draw!
Puff upon puff!
If only you knew what was in this stuff?
So when you die.
Here is a thought.
Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust.
If you had not smoked.
You would still be with us!

The morning rays stream through the window.

Extracting bad thoughts from your head.
You wake to find it was all a dream.
Take heart, no more need to scream.
The Nicotine man has fled the scene.
Colin - December 2006

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