A Hard Habit To Break Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

While walking down a street
behind some guy
he flicked his cigarette butt
in the air.
It arced
and almost landed in my hair.
To say I wasn't mad
would be a lie.
A harmful habit,
hurting others too,
I couldn't just ignore.
I stooped and picked it up.
He sat down yards ahead.
I licked my lips.
I paused,
not certain what I'd do.
As if
'Hey buddy, check your fly.'
I said:
'I think you dropped this.'
Left it.
Walked away.
I wasn't going to shame him.
I can't say he'd stop it,
but, now,
I am in his head.
For power isn't always force.
I think he felt my kindness.
Gentleness has strength.