Once I ran after a robber
Who snatched a lady’s purse,
Then after a few short strides
My lungs seemed to burst
—yet I kept on.
Then faced with a hundred steps
Upon a flight of stairs,
While I so laboriously trekked,
My chest burned and flared
—still I went on.
Walking now seems so deprived
Of what once was leisure,
With all these needles pricking inside
My heart has to endure
—but I carried on.
Then it was one rainy night,
My wife threatened to leave;
She said, “You made a chimney of our home,
and I can hardly breathe! ”
I am a man, but I can’t last
A life lived without her,
So I knelt down and made a pact
To both of us was fair;
As long as she won’t leave, I’d try
My very darndest best
To quit what she has hated most
And lay it down to rest
—and that was when I stopped
smoking cigarettes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Funny yet so real! I enjoyed this one a lot. Hope you are still smoke-free!