Roger Nkhoma Poet Free verse

Habits

My lungs are black but my heart is pure
My hair is thin and falling out in the wrong places
At this point my days to live are measured with an hour glass 
The size of the smallest taxa 
My memory is a bank of a hundred and one bad choices
Two thirds look like a previous poem I wrote,
 one which I used a cigar to craft the smoke that is to swallow my alveoli whole
I am using one as I write this, and I’ll probably smoke another one after I’m done
These are the habits I have
The habits I adopted from the apple that fell far from the tree,
The forbidden fruit.

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Leo Larry Amadore June 11, 2021 at 1:32 PM Some apples do indeed "fall far from the tree." I certainly sympathize with your plight and I hope you conquer your "problem" and regain your health. I like your confessional and think you have done well, both poetically and personally, in expressing your dilemma. Good luck! Roger Nkhoma June 12, 2021 at 12:31 AM Thank you very much. Means a lot