An Ode to Smoking

I can only presume this coincided with an attempt to stop smoking that lasted less than a month. I know this because just over a month after I wrote it, I actually stopped smoking and have been mostly smoke free for over 5 years now. The keen-eyed among you may notice this was written 3 months before Shattered – this may give you some insight into the emotional effects of nicotine withdrawal.

The smoking doesn't soothe me anymore,
It used to even out the bumps but now I just feel sore,
From burning air as I inhale,
Clothes that smell so stale.
What is it for? I can't take it anymore.

It used to feel good with a beer,
Having that fire in my hand but still the smoke would shed a tear.
I guess the novelty wore off,
Now all I have's this smoker's cough.
And death to fear. I hope the air will clear.

I know I've tried this all before,
Stopped smoking cigarettes and tried to fight the war,
Between my body and myself,
My pleasure and my health,
To find a cure and become a little pure.

I know it won't be an easy thing to do,
I'll need some help; a patch or just some gum to chew,
I'll need my friends to understand,
If things don't go just how I planned,
When I feel blue, not that it's something new.

With one last breath I've said goodbye,
To a two-faced friend that couldn't help itself but lie,
It won't be easy as we part,
But I know deep in my heart,
That I must try. One of us must die.

The months ahead will be my trial,
I know from times before how hard the final mile,
Can be to win the race,
I can't take second place,
I must maintain the pace,
And all the while, grit teeth and smile.

July 2006