by Thomas K. Hunt

I learned from my daddy of what not to do
But I still light up a Camel Blue
Every chance I get no matter where I am
The chain is a strong one
It's shackled to my hand
Hey buddy can you spare a smoke
I find myself in between packs
I'll have your brand waiting for you
When you find your way back
I love to cough until I cry
It's so much better when my mouth is dry
I love the wheezing I can talk to the birds
They can't hear me not a single word
Keep those long butts in a separate bags
I laughed when I heard them called fags
That was the British thing
That was a funny thing
Now it's not funny
Now it's just a pest
It make you smell a mess
Stealing all the fresh air
Burning down homes
Opening up to new worlds
Introducing to the unknown
To kids without a clue
I've solved the mystery
It's no joke
I should have know when I saw daddy smoke
It was the wrong thing to do
Still I lit up between two peers
That started the decline in all these years
I never let up
I began to build my chain
With the help of my friends I was on my way
A few fell of the wagon and they were done
But that smoke filled wagon well she still runs
I'll have another Camel Blue
If you want I can share it with you
No there's no way that's going to take place
I never want to see a cigarette near your face.
If I'd known then
If I'd known then
If I'd known then
If I'd known then
If I'd known then
If I'd known then
If I'd known then
If I'd known then
If I'd known then
If I'd known then


Posted on 09/08/2014
Copyright © 2022 Thomas K. Hunt

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 09/08/14 at 02:34 PM

Amen! As someone also struggling to quit the devil weed, I enjoyed this reflection in the mirror. Thanks Thomas. :)

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