puff 'n pass
while waiting at the station for the train to come rushing in here comes these two ladies one of them sits next to me suddenly, she opens up her bag she takes out a pack of cigarretes she takes one, lights it and puts the rest back in her bag she starrts smoking, puffing so much her cheeks changed color (to blue muffin) they turned blu-black because she's puffing a cloud of smoke breathing in...breathing out inhale, breathe in....hmmmmm! exhale, breathe out...ahhhhh! "this is quite nice" that's whats in her mind to those around, she's oblivious but most of all, she doesn't know or choses to ignore (the fact that) she's killing her lungs she's commiting suicide
17
0
zuxmania
As far as I can remember, istarted writing poetry when I was able to take pen and pen and scribble something. At that time, of course, I wasn\'t that aware of the power of what I was scribing. I met guys of McJurni's calibre, they resurrected that...
Comments
Sign in or sign up to comment on this poem!
Poems by style
Poems by content