"cigerettes" poems
My father needed
very few things
to stay content.
A pack of cigarettes
and her quick wit
to smoke them with
He found her in med school
Ironic,
where he won her over
with peppermint sticks.
His candy
and hers
Both balanced between
their lips.
It went like this
for 20 years
He’d smoke
She’d laugh.
But his work
left her alone
and in time her,
sweet tooth died.
So she left him.
alone with his worthless
Cigerettes.
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC