Here is another poem written in 1994. I had a love/hate relationship with cigarettes back in the day. I loved them but they hated me – cigarettes made me woozy and all I wanted to do was blow smoke rings.

Burning ash of stress

Seeping through my chest

Going to my head

Making life a mess

Burning ash of stress

St Moritz and the rest

Giving me no rest

Begging to be fresh

And burnt out till it’s dead

Burning ash of stress

You’ve put me to the test

So I’ll just let it rest

And keep on with the rest

Who bow down to your strength

You burning ash of stress

© 1994 

Wow…that is some long winding poem. I got tired just transcribing it…all the ‘burning ash of stress’ business…poor cigarettes (you got licked!…with verse-burning ash of stress)

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