The money spent,

The lighters lent,

The stains along the hands.

The smell of smoke,

The health-freak jokes,

The government commands.

We're all fed up of taxes raised

But none of us were really fazed

When warnings were a standard.

But the thought creeps in

That perhaps the bin

Is best if we were candid.

But we hate the fear

And keep them near

To know that we are safe.

That times of stress,

When life's a mess,

In cigerettes have faith.

But you hate yourself

And so with stealth,

You start to try break free.

We're here to aid,

Force addiction's fade

A better life you'll see.

So save your health

And dying wealth

And join our ranks today.

So you can run

And have some fun

Say I quit fags today!

Poetry and Prose Archives

Kat

03.02.05 Front Page

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