Through a paper straw he drank his smoke, like a thirsty man water
Burnt, a life's harvest dispersed in air, a love fading the more he sought her
More parched with each exhausted puff, each gulp sucks him dry
A burning desert his scorched thoughts, no oasis his wet eye
How do you call back smoke once exhaled
or vapors of time from a relationship failed
A burnt out cigarette butt you throw away
but its dead smell with you will stay night and day
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Online) - Published: July 3rd, 2026 03:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
- Users favorite of this poem: nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)
Online)
Comments1
great write and a fav.
Thank you Norman your support is most appreciated
most welcome
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