Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com - Read, Rate, Comment on, or Submit Poetry. Browse Poetry Forums, or just enjoy other parts of our poetic community.
One of the largest databases of poetry on the net, now over 198,500+ poems!
Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com    Poems On Site: 198,500+   Comments On Poems: 427,000+   Forum Posts: 105,000+
Custom Search
  Welcome ! Home  ·  FAQ  ·  Topics  ·  Web Links  ·  Your Account  ·  Submit Poetry  ·  Top 30  ·  23-November 20:27:57 AEST  
  Menu
  Home
· Micks Shop
· Our eBay Store· Error Submit
 Poetry
· Submit Poetry
· Least Read Poems
· Topics
· Members Listing
· Poetry Archive
· Public Domain Poetry
 Stories
· Stories (NEW ! )
· Submit Story
· Story Topics
· Stories Archive
· Story Search
  Community
· Our Poetry Forums
· Our Arcade
100's of Games !

  Site Help
· FAQ
· Feedback

  Members Areas
· Your Account· Premium Sign-Up
  Premium Section
· Special Section
· Premium Poems
· Premium Submit
· Premium Search
· Premium Top
· Premium Archive
· Premium Topics
 Fun & Games

· Jokes
 Reference
· Content
 Search
· Search
· Web Links
· All Links
 Top
· Top 30
  Help This Site
 Others
· Recipes
· Moderators
Our Other Sites
· Embroidery Design Store
· Your Jokes
· Special Urls
· JM Embroideries
· Public Domain Poetry and Stories
· Diamond Dotz
· Cooking Info and Recipes
· Quoof - Australian Story

  Social

The Smoker

Contributed by ludders on Thursday, 18th May 2006 @ 04:27:11 PM in AEST
Topic: AmericanTragedy



The Smoker

Each drag he inhales, is a breath he loses,
He coughs up a rainbow, red and yellow, green and black.
He shares many a smile in the company of smokers,
Flaunting his tainted teeth and spewing his charred breath.

Soon, yellow, green and black all fade,
His youthful face is cast in grey,
His salubrious body is set in shade.

Everything about him, becomes colourless,
Overwhelmed in tar, and bile,
But he tried, of course he tried,
That was his last fag,
As was the one before that

He blames the tobacco industry,
As he works 8 hours a day to fuel it,
Handing over his wages for poison,

What ifs are running wild in his mind,
As he lays on the bed,
A hole in his neck and mush being forced into his blood,
He coughs up a rainbow and sighs, for that last drag,
He traded his final breath

His aged eyes flicker as they slowly shut,
And his yellow fingers curl painfully,
His chest relaxes as his breath escapes,
As his brain begins to close,
He thinks to himself,
What if.. what if I had said no.







Copyright © ludders ... [ 2006-05-18 16:27:11]
(Date/Time posted on site)





Advertisments:






Previous Posted Poem         | |         Next Posted Poem


 
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title etc.
Re: The Smoker (User Rating: 1 )
by jerseysue on Thursday, 18th May 2006 @ 06:15:07 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Believe me I understand this poem so well. Seen the effect it has had . Also cared for someone this happened to, and yet, nobody ever looks at what drinking can do. This is another evil, which also destroys the body, and yes the same question persists, yes Why did I not say no. Its a tragic and a realistic look at the damage we cause ourselves, you are right to publish it. Thanks Sue x


Re: The Smoker (User Rating: 1 )
by Spike on Friday, 19th May 2006 @ 06:28:48 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Yep, a dirty, filthy habit. Can't seem to go anywhere without having to negotiate a pall of smoke, even just to access a non smoking moviehouse or restaraunt.

I've worked with patients with emphysema and lung disease, who still smoked through a tracchy hole in their neck.Then again, I would never deny the right of a grieving parent to have a ciggie to calm their grief.

Spike


Re: The Smoker (User Rating: 1 )
by ButchHoward on Friday, 19th May 2006 @ 12:59:46 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
How tragically true your words are here. The question I always ask people who are trying to quit is: Who controls your life, Phillip Morris or you? Good message!
Butch




While every care is taken to ensure the general sites content is family safe, our moderators cannot be in all places; all the time. Please report poetry and or comments that are in breach of our site rules HERE (Please include poem title or url). Parents also please ensure that you supervise your children well when they are on the internet; regardless of what a site says about being, or being considered, child-safe.

Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©

Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster

All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com

All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.

Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com