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niamh Jul 2015
Remember my laugh
Not my struggle for breath
In the aftermath
Of my smoker's death.
Think of the children
I love beyond belief
And how I have saddled
Them with this grief.
And how, when it comes
To their wedding day,
I won't be there
To give my daughters away.
And when they cry
And are consumed by fears
I won't be there
To dry their tears.
And how these girls
I love like no other
Will be left in this world
Without their mother.
I rush to my grave
With incredible speed
All for the love
Of this noxious ****.
My husband asked me to write a poem about the fact I'm still smoking & what it will do to my kids if I die. So here it is. Not easy to write & even harder to read back

— The End —