by Laura Leigh Fields

Created on: August 20, 2007

I am in a cloudy room.
It is full of smoke.
Everyone is puffing cigarettes.
I hear someone begin to choke.

They inhale each taste deeply.
Their lungs consume the deadly fumes.
With each silent drag,
They decide the dates on their tombs.

Do they want to fit in?
Are they trying to look cool?
Sucking on a cancer stick.
They are stuck labeled a fool.

A craving is now an addiction.
They get harder to put down.
Is it habit, boredom, or a temporary escape?
They won't turn their views around.

Second hand smoke is no better,
Soon they infect everyone they know.
Dreams become ashy nightmares,
As the cigarette begins to glow.

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