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Thursday, August 21, 2014

The throes of a chronic smoker



The perfect cigarette happen every day,
Forbidden, taking your breath away.
So succulent, inhaling the smoke
It flows like a halo around the tiny glow...

You stand alone, loving the deep drawl,
An exercise as the smoke slowly crawls,
Inhale and exhale - an unadulterated pleasure,
As long as your lungs with stands the pressure...

Many a times when you need release,
You take a drag and feel at peace...
The rush you feel within,
Tender, violent, a sweet sin...

It is history when you finish the tube,
Another hour, and this continues...
It is wrong but it feels so right,
The not so perfect cigarette you hold this night...

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