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The warmer winter mornings
by Sam RobertsSticking to your lips, parched and splintered
Rip off the skin on a cold lonely morning
Warming only your finger tips, tarnished yellow, tip blood red
it wilts away
and slips out of your fingers
Into a pond.
Sizzle
HISS, youve been asleep all night
And you dream of that Morning
As nicotine stalks tomorrow
09/13/2003 Author's Note: Yes, another poem about smoking..sigh
Posted on 09/12/2003
Copyright © 2024 Sam Roberts
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 09/14/03 at 04:11 AM Picturising smoking, I never thought, despite being a smoker.We normally dont stop to 'experience' this mechanical act. You did this. |
| Posted by Maria Terezia Ferencz on 03/13/05 at 02:58 PM nicotine stalks me 2.....completely understand |
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