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Jonathan Wildgoose Poem
Gasping fed up ness
Next door plums of smoke engulf the air,
I can't breath, I cannot breath, I can not breath, gasp.
My lungs relinquish wearily to filthy, dirty, unhealthy plums of rude air.
It's not free? Gasp, gasp.
Why complain? but I do
A stare; no care, unfair.
I flee for outside air, gasp, gasp, better now.
So I pay rent to share second hand smoke,
beyond frustrated,
Beyond despair.
I'm fed up with complaining to other smokers. Fed up.
Freedom from air pollutants is a run I don't want. Fed up, fed up.
Sprint to my car while my neighbour goes on puffing & exhaling &
damaging the air.
Battle weary I am.
I am fed up.
Really fed up.
Fed up
I appreciate your time.
Copyright © Jonathan Wildgoose | Year Posted 2014
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