I spent five bucks,
On 20 cancer sticks;
Anticipating the moment,
When my lighter flicks.

I'm met with ***** looks,
But I don't really care,
As I puff on my cigarette,
Polluting the clean air.

We're an elite force,
With our smoking breath,
Killing ourselves slowly,
Breathing in Death.

I've been told to quit.
Its a nasty habit they say.
But I think for a little while,
I want death to stay.

As the cherry reaches the filter,
I flick it away,
For a little while longer,
Keeping death at bay.