The Cylindrical Shape of Death

So many people dead. And the way that I have figured it Is Death wasnt caused. Just bred. In the form of twenty class "A" cigarettes The first puff is the best. For the last one puts you in your grave. The pain grows in your chest You are then tobacco's slave. What a dream to run What a dream to break these chains What a deed done Killing the cells within your brains Praying to the heavens, Bearing a cross, and reading The Book Wont save Death's peasents Of dying because of the air Death took. Mass suicide is around us As we die so softly this day. Death tonight surrounds us. Our health and wealth is taken away. Stolen are the lives of the lost After buying death in a cylindrical shape. Cigarettes bear a great deal of cost The cost is life. There is no escape