Ode to a dying smoker
You came into my life, before I was born.
How could I know, our relationship was to be forlorn?
I knew in my heart, I should just walk away.
Time I was thirteen, you were here to stay.
I thought it was cool, never going by all the rules.
I was the hippest, never no ones fool.
You were with me everywhere I would go.
New friends, you would get to know.
Dad was in the Service, often we would move.
Long as I had you, I could find a "New Groove".
You went with me everywhere that I went.
Dad, died on his Birthday, he was fifty-one and Heaven sent.
I made a promise to him, one I never kept.
I should have listened, but now I regret.
Mom died young, not even a year later, from secondhand smoke.
I thought at the time, that had to be a joke.
I now have C. O. P. D., I do not want the people to see...
Me, stuck on an oxygen machine, with a forty foot hose.
Thinking how bad the Tobacco Companies and smoking,
really have got to go!
Comments: C.O.P.D. is Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease)
This is a revised version of a poem I wrote a few years ago. I guess with this
I want to get across how Smoking takes it's tole on families. This is my true story, I hope
some can see what it does and can stop the madness. Judy