Ashtray Anecdote Poem by Ima Ryma

I was an ashtray just wiped clean
By a waitress at the cafe.
Two lovers sat down on the scene,
And both began smoking away.
But then a third person showed up,
And lit a cigarette as well.
'Twas tension in this trio, yup,
With language spoken hot as hell.
The first two lovers split apart,
Two cigs snuffed out in my ash zone.
One lover had a change of heart,
Left the other smoking alone.

The cafe tossed me long ago.
No smoking allowed, doncha know!