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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Community · #1844194
I wrote this today and it's already aged years.
Cigarettes and alcohol, so many lives on cruise control: the masses choice to drown a soul. It’s up to us to grant parole.

This sentence with us anywhere, confined we’re not to four walls bare, Pub’s and bars a drinkers lair, organs heave in quiet despair.

Brainwashed by the TV’s spew; as we’re told ‘what’, that’s what we do, installed for years in you and you,

The greatest lie it’s so taboo;

Tobacco’s good and drinks so great, smell like shit and put on weight, slur your speech and drop that trait, medicate your hate of your mental state.

There’s other way’s we can relax, why fall foe to this western tax. Rise, rise above those cheap soundtracks. That smoke! That noise! That cheesy sax!

People die, every day. A lot bloody quicker if they had their way, light another stick, prop that sway, you know you’re always welcome if you wanted to stay.

Check the records, see what’s what! Then compare those records with the records for pot, killed a lot of people? I think not; and you can still be talking rubbish with those buddies ya got.

Know your rights and know the rules, for these are life enhancing power tools, this is what we should be taught in schools; but controlling  many people is less taxing with fools.
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