Alan Bruce Thompson


Ban On Smoking Poem by Alan Bruce Thompson


We’ve heard that in many countries it’s now very bad,
That smokers are persecuted, it’s all very sad.

After all the pleasure we once had,
Non-smoking politicians are driving us all mad.

In some airports there’s a smokers glass box,
A big glass coffin to display the smoker’s pox.

It’s even illegal to smoke in the street,
So now we can’t distinguish between smoke and heat.

I’ve learnt to walk with an unlit cigar in my mouth,
The activists get excited and send me further south.

Where will it end? This sad smoker’s plea,
To mention any S- word will soon be blasphemy.

Submitted: Thursday, March 27, 2014

Topic of this poem: life


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