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Poetry: Smoking

I lay in the bed and stare at the wall
Exercise and bounce a ball
But still I can't find release.
I lick a sucker and chew some gum
Pace the floor and twiddle my thumbs
But Lord it sure has a hold on me.
Finally I go to sleep
The only place I get any peace
And then it becomes a dream.
Legions there are armed with guns
Demanding that I light one
And then I wake up with a scream.
Kicking the habit's so hard to do
When everywhere one's staring at you
Laughing and telling you please won't you smoke me?
But then I look it square in the butt
And say I think I've had enough
Because you're going to be the death of me.

Learn more about this author, Sylvia Morrison.
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