In the rocker I swing,
puffing a coffin nail,
pet closely sitting,
wagging his bewitching tail.
aura is hazy,
sensation is bold.
cig spark getting closer,
put time on hold.
Thoughts becoming dizzy,
crawling like snail.
lungs are puffed up,
fingers getting frail.
Its the last puff
and I am dreaming.
so strong was the stuff,
made me frea-king.
The beginning is pretty nice. This poem if ellaborated can convey a message of 'say no to smoking'. But still it will surely catch up with readers.
ReplyDeleteThank you for giving some of your moments ...and yes it doesn't convey a message because I was not thinking of giving a message at the time I created it. But your point would surely be considered. Thank you :)
ReplyDelete