Smokey Stick!

Burn, burn, burn my cigarrete,
If it really makes you feel great.
Burn, burn, burn my cigarrete,
Smoking it is your chosen fate.

You are trapped in this fatal addiction,
If you believe the white whiff of smoke,
Chases away all ebb feelings of frustration.
And statutory warnings will seem a big joke!

If the red amber tip of that rolled up stick,
Gives you a poison tar ebony black kick,
Then burn; burn me too quick,
The very life in you, I feel sick.

The process has already begun...
The burning of your smokey pyre.
Away from this you better run,
This! Your burning desire.

Rise up from your abyss and shine.
Be strong and everything will be just fine.
Breath in the nature's gift that's nectar pure,
In letting go of your habit lies the cure.

Smell this nature's sweet scented aroma,
Away from all this world's stress and trauma.
A prayer from life's tenderly bosom,
In you let all the happiness blossom.

Replenish me... give life a chance,
Then watch me in a merry making dance.
Come out of your masochistic trance,
And start living with a positive stance.

Remember these words the next time you smoke,
You can choose a healthy life or a deadly stroke.
There is so much in you worthwhile to offer,
Then why let others and yourself suffer?

[ T. S. Sudarshan. 02 August 2008. ]