Smokeless
It's so uninspiring.
I'm sitting here and no lights are firing.
My head is mired with faulty wiring.
I need a spark to break the dark.
A cigarette that cures the heart.
Of mind and body it makes me smart.
At least it seems to fill the part.
I sit here now with no smokes left.
My head is empty and bereft.
Of great ideas.
There's been a theft.
So help me now to get them back.
Loan me six bucks to get a pack.
Then I'll find the things I lack.
With smoke filled lungs it brings it all back.
The brilliant ideas on which I snack.
poem by Michael McParland
Added by Poetry Lover
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