Poetry Blogs (lungs)
My lungs breathe in most of everything,
No matter the toxicity.
Some days I hold in the putrid air,
Until I'm left gasping.
Friday 14th October 2016 6:03 am
No-one understood his love for smoking,
The man swore on his life, with his life,
That he would never quit his ‘hobby’.
When asked ‘why do you love it?’
He explained that he was manipulating,
The smoke, as he blew out rings.
The man expressed a knowledge for
Cancer, but said he would take his chances,
Because smoking made him feel powerful.
In the autop...
Tuesday 3rd January 2012 11:58 am