BAD HABITA Poem by CrusaderscrossThe smoker walks forward
without the least bit of a clue I can't help but laugh His cancer is near A cloud of black smokes pollutes all He thinks he is safe, but he is the fool Death is behind...approaching The smoker walk faster He starts running, but death is getting closer The smoker is still in denial Almost arrived he lights up Cancer comes around his lungs blacken The smoker is now lying in the designated place He begs the white angel for one last puff She doesn't comply His face turns black of fright Escape is no longer possible The fool puffs his last breath The white angel changes the bedsheets Another will come © 2010 CrusaderscrossReviews
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2 Reviews Added on July 29, 2010 Last Updated on August 4, 2010 Author
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