The smell of cigarette smoke,
To most, it is a heinous smell,
But I can’t even choke.
The aroma takes me back in time,
Where my mind wasn’t a living hell,
And giving away a heart wasn’t a crime.
I loved how the smoke would go out the windows,
Like a soul coming out of its cell,
Or maybe that’s just how the wind blows.
Each puff was something I never got,
Did it slowly **** me, only time will tell,
Probably not, thinking about those days ties me into a knot.
**** those days are getting old,
The pain and heart rate fell,
So many stories have been untold.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 9:16 PM UTC
The smell of cigarette smoke,
To most, it is a heinous smell,
But I can’t even choke.
The aroma takes me back in time,
Where my mind wasn’t a living hell,
And giving away a heart wasn’t a crime.
I loved how the smoke would go out the windows,
Like a soul coming out of its cell,
Or maybe that’s just how the wind blows.
Each puff was something I never got,
Did it slowly **** me, only time will tell,
Probably not, thinking about those days ties me into a knot.
**** those days are getting old,
The pain and heart rate fell,
So many stories have been untold.
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