I can smell that sickening odor from your
Cotton jacket. In a few years I’ll be at your funeral throwing roses in your casket.

You reach in your back pocket for your favorite lighter it’s sad but it’s true your future seems brighter

But not in a good way. Soon I’ll be trashing all your ashtrays

How can I say I love you when I witness you killing yourself softly you have no idea how much it pains me to see you have cancer between your lips and you in tears enjoying it sadly

I know your in pain but there’s a better way but mother it’s to late