No Smoking Day
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An Ode to myself

Sometimes I get so tired of moving fast that the earth seems to sin with me.

The trees appear to ripple more during the storm and the wind whips at this body of mine growing older

Instead of peace I feel in pieces.

This too shall pass a saying goes but when the storm hits the most difficult part is keeping it all together.

There has been possible points where a better path has presented itself but instead I still choose to batter my being.


Always a tomorrow to change as the decisions present and pass but what if this time I stay and make the wrong one too many times.

Advice from friends and strangers alike even why did you look so beutiful that night in Morocco, damned French enjoying you like no tomorrow.

Cigarettes I hate you but I love you too. I keep waiting for the morn I wake and I crave no more. Has it passed was it today?

Is it too late you leaf of time and have I chosen you once too many times.


What to do when your body screams and coughs up no more it says but the stubborn head is never satisfied.

I will crack you and I will beat you before it's too late.

At 42 I will not need you and don't call it a comeback but I am going to stub you out.


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