A Pack Of Cigarettes

I feel like a pack of cigarettes
Pounded and beaten 
Unwrapped unraveled
Passed out, used as favors 
Incinerated and burned to ash 
Tossed aside and discarded
Trash, hollow and empty
With someone wishing I was full
And trying to quit, rid themselves of me
Rained on washed out blown away
And stepped on by everyone that passes by
If anyone picks me up, it will only be to throw me away, once empty, no one will refill me,
No one does such a thing
Alone and desolate I will wait
Until eventually I decay.
For those whom I touch, 
their insides will rot away
And I will destroy them regardless
Of love or hate.
I am cancerous, a sickness
At best a guilty pleasure
All in all without regard or recourse 
I am just a box, I was sought for my insides
But now I lie empty, crushed, forever broken
And no one to fill me. So the next time you light up think of me, please smoke more slowly.

Reviews

[BBP]

You did this well. Played them together perfectly

[onlytemporary]

i really like this piece, very relatable.

[Bloggergirl29]

This is a very inspiring piece. The depth in which you brought the reader is great!

[EvaThornburn]

Nice write. Nice read. Mixed with so many emotions. Keeps the reader interested from start to finish. Thanks, for sharing. Eva

[Michael Leon Wilson]

Thank you... Read some more of my work, most are devoid of much needed critique!