Bitter aromas claim the air
The dark yellow stain abounds
Gone are the glossy magazine ads
Your public images restricted by law
Yet, my deadly thirty-year long love affair still survives
Driven by chemical addiction through manipulation
Undeniable psychological dependence rewarded
With long, contemplative drags I confess, “a fire on one end, and a fool on the other”
The measurable, multi-sensory physical response of your presence comforts not
Public solitude eludes in the scorn of the multitudes
Dare I ever commit a crime with the smoking ban now enacted for prisoners?
Imagine, a huge cage full of crazed nicotine addicts suddenly forced to go cold turkey
I would walk a mile for you, if I could, but years of this love have left me breathless
Pack or carton – Lord knows my only worry, “Can I afford the black market prices?
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