The dragon of chest pain with infiltrated lungs.
Sits in the corner, he's coughing again.
He's twenty two, but that means nothing.
He tugs on his roll up and coughs up some more.
He says sweet mama, my chest is so sore.
Yellow jelly coughed down the sink.
Before he takes another drink.
He turns on the tap to release all the crap, that lays on his chest.
Says it's for the best, as it only gets worse.
When trying to quit, it's the smokers curse.
He seen all the adverts about beating cancer.
As dancing with death as nicotine necromancer.
Says the cigarettes make him feel magic.
Thinking it's tragic, he thinks so too.
He can't help it, he needs to smoke.
My son is a dragon, and  hell it's no joke.
How I hate to hear him choke!
(c) Livvi