*This silly poem was written for my Niece’s 18th birthday a long time ago. She started smoking at 17 and is still smoking at 31. Her Grandmother died in her 50s after suffering with cancer for 5 years. Her Mother has already had several biopsies and turned 52 this year (and still smokes). I know this is a silly poem; however, if it gives one of you out there pause and saves a life, then it was worth it. So laugh, think Emily Dickinson she’s not and throw your cigarettes away. I was one of the lucky ones. I never started. Tony Robbins calls it getting leverage. So get a little leverage and call 1-800-QUIT-NOW (1-800-784-8669) or http://1800quitnow.cancer.gov/ Please…
No More Cigarettes
Some smoke ‘cause they want to stay thinner.
Some smoke to stop biting their nails.
Some smoke ‘cause they think they’ll be sexy.
Some smoke when they’re riding the rails.
There’s a place I go when I’m lonely.
There’s a place I go when I’m sad.
Mostly, I really don’t want to
Inhale smoke from my cigarettes.
Some smoke to be accepted.
Some smoke ‘cause they want to belong.
Some smoke because it’s a habit.
Some smoke when they’re writing a song.
There’s a place I go when I’m frightened.
There’s a place I go when I’m mad.
Mostly, I really don’t want to
Inhale smoke from my cigarettes
I am sure you think I am preaching.
I am sure I sound like your Mom.
I wish it was easy to get ‘round this.
I’m talking to you – to Lisa and Tom.
First your throat will start to hurt you.
Then your lungs won’t get enough air.
Then the smoke begins to inhabit
Your clothes, your skin, and your hair.
There’s a reason the companies did this,
Philip Morris, Camel, and Kents.
They can roll up a really cheap product,
And make a whole lot of cents.
They target teenagers like you
To think you’ll be sexier when,
You start smoking their brand or another’s.
You’ll die a slow death in the end.
If you think I’m trying to scare you,
You are totally absolutely correct.
I’ve watched too many friends perish,
And die very young deaths.
Have flowers to smell on your birthday,
Not some to cover your grave.
What can I do to help you?
You are important enough to save.
You probably think I’m a meanie.
You probably think I’m a rat.
Be pissed as much as you want to
Just stop smoking those cigarettes.
I want to dance at your wedding,
To rock your daughter or son.
I really hate going to funerals,
On days when life is all gone.
Your life is too precious to waste it,
On waded up tobacco sticks.
Humor me, knowing I love you,
And stop smoking those cigarettes.
All rights reserved. ©2009 by Sara Fryd
