As I stood there towards a stone wall with iron gates,
The cabonaceous vapors of menthol I could taste.
As I advance through the glass door,
I observed a sign that informed ‘no more’.
It was an unexpected blow to my mind, in a matter of minutes,
I was patted down; my pack searched to be sure there was nothing in it.
A troublesome task I faced as the first week seemed like living in Hell,
I wanted to climb the surrounding mountains and YELL.
An unconscious inclination which I have wanted to end,
There still is a puzzlement at hand, if I will begin again.
There is still an intense madness, an urge, and desire,
To pinch the frame of my lover between my fingers and strike a fire.
The odoriferous is not wanted anymore,
As I walk out the iron gated door.
The desire...the addiction,
Is most definitely an monstrosity of an affliction.
It will take great courage, commitment, and a determinate,
Not to have another cigarette.
@ Tunisia Torres