Hey everyone. I came across this poem I wrote some years ago, no doubt inspired by an earlier quit attempt. Wish I'd been successful back then but nevermind. I feel experience has armed me better for this time around and I'm feeling positive.
Anyway, hope this makes you smile
Iâ€™ve had my fill of feeling ill,
Of smoking until my eyes close at night,
And from when the dayâ€™s first fag lights.
Sick of the cough, the hack, the croak,
Toking the butt of this cruel joke.
At my worst thereâ€™s the heinous health crimes.
Awoken in ashtrays dozens of times.
Splashed fags to underage lads,
Fed the demon with cash stolen from Dad.
Taken to eyeing half-smoked butts,
With something like â€“ God help me â€“ lust?â€¦
Itâ€™s a sorry business smoking at my level,
Itâ€™s a ****ing achievement, so whereâ€™s my medal?!
To walk into my bedroom, the inner sanctum,
Is to smell a whiff that is none-too handsome.
Itâ€™s infused with odours exotic and rare,
Like â€˜Eau dâ€™ashtrayâ€™ and â€˜foetid footwearâ€™.
My clothes reek of a dingy musk,
The stench fills me with neurotic disgust.
Its getting so bad I can hardly breathe,
I need a fag like you wouldnâ€™t believe!
(Why canâ€™t I get rid of this constant unease?)
â€¦My boat it floats on a sea of smoke,
Too far gone to remember hope,
Will I ever find my way back?
What will it take; a heart attack?
A creeping cancer, a sudden stroke,
A respiratory system all cracked and broke,
A shrivelled member, fruitless seed -
(It can happen lads, donâ€™t you read?)
Thatâ€™s it! No more. The time has come.
Goodbye Tobacco. We are done.
Bitter Master, whose company I never asked for.
Take back your lies, your rule is over!
Yet I cower beneath the habits shadow.
Wherever I go, the demon follows;
Pinching and prodding, poking and goading,
Tempted and bending, my will is broken.
â€œAlright you win"! Never was good in a fight,
â€œExcuse us mateâ€¦
â€¦have you got a light?â€