Never will be I silent, not matter how hopeless and small my voice seems to me

To know someone who cares about the children and the Genocide, remember we all must stand together.

Nicotine is a tightly structured, lyrical poem that explores the tension between fleeting comforts and the greater aspirations we often neglect. Using nicotine as both a literal and metaphorical device, the poem examines the small indulgences we cling to—despite knowing their cost—drawing a parallel to the broader human tendency to accept self-deception for the sake of temporary relief.

Through vivid imagery of smoke, stained fingers, and fading embers, the poem evokes a sense of quiet resignation, underscoring the slow erosion of will beneath a comforting but insidious habit. The rhythmic AB meter reinforces the hypnotic cycle of desire and consequence, mirroring the way these comforts lull us into complacency.

At its core, Nicotine is a confrontation—a mirror held up to our daily rationalizations, asking whether we truly seek change or merely the illusion of control. The introspective tone invites readers to reflect on their own vices, however small, and consider what they may be sacrificing in the name of fleeting ease.

"When a child walks in the room, your child or anyone else's child, do your eyes light up? That's what they are looking for."   ~Toni Morrison

I performed this piece on social media a few months ago. I wasn't sure if I still liked it, but I thought I'd share it with you all in the HP community.

"Rest now" can be viewed as a conversation between a woeful person (the author) and their console (whether that be a friend, a therapist, the page, or themselves) that discusses the inner anxieties of someone who's putting themselves out there [in their career, or whatever it may be] for the first time.

The counselor reminds the author that they are exactly who they are meant to be and need not stress about anything.