Treasure Island

Mark R Slaughter


Smoker


I billowed calmly as a cloud
Upon a course for acid rain,
When in the fog of smoking crowd,
My lungs collapsed in searing pain.

Full of soot and black with tar,
I coughed in vain for chest to clear;
At least my lungs had got this far
Despite my years of toxic air.

But Smokers' Lounge was home to me,
Where fellow addicts puff with joy:
Our pipes in hand, all friends are we,
‘Let's fine cigars now share, my boy! '

‘So gasp away! ' my motto cries,
‘And light another cigarette
Before a further smoker dies,
Which happens often - you can bet! '


Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009










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Submitted: Sunday, March 15, 2009
Edited: Monday, April 16, 2012

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  • Ellen Ni Bheachain (6/17/2010 9:40:00 AM)

    Enjoyed reading your poem. Managing to stay off the cigarettes. However, reading your poem reminding me of the pleasures of smoking and all that gather in the smoking section.

    Good read! (Report) Reply

  • Marie Shine (3/23/2009 10:16:00 AM)

    A brilliant write extolling the vices of smoking.This wonderful poem SHOULD be printed on all cigarette packets - it would bring home to smokers what life entails for them if they continue with their habit. A 100 - sorry it only goes to 10 Mark, so a well deserved 10 from me. (Report) Reply

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