As I hack and I wheeze, spit and cough,
Like a hog choking on the feed in his trough,
I take a drag, and fathom all the cilia spent,
On this silly habit, writing now, The Smokerâ€™s Lament.
A difficult journey, the trip to my door,
Up three flights of stairs and collapse on my floor.
My intake of smoke, shrunk my lung-capacity to that,
Roughly, of a sickly emphysemic cat.
Though it is: Smelly-pukey-disgusting-deadly-
Unreasonable-stupid-smokeyâ€¦not intended the pun,
This habit is so untastefully fun.
Come tell me Iâ€™m wrong, come tell me Iâ€™m dumb.
Make me blow my smoke elsewhere, and shun.
I deserve it, Iâ€™m human, tell me all, but not yet.
Because from all of this writing, I need a cigarette.