Enough to let go

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem completely dedicated to the struggle of quitting cigarettes....

Submitted: May 19, 2008

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Submitted: May 19, 2008

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"Enough to let go"

If you asked me if I hated myself, I’d probably lie
And say a little, but it’s no riddle to wonder why
I trip when I try and fall back into the habit
Wanting and wishing to travel in time and never grab it

Guess fate wouldn’t have it, so I dove in head first
Cursed to roam the Earth cancerous, and what’s worse
I keep a pack of white sticks, in search of another fix
Beg pricks to toss me a short, and a match to light with

Nobody supplies shit, so now I gather my change
Walk to the corner store, it’s like it’s all been prearranged
I’m predisposed to this addiction, stuck on the bottom floor
Constantly climbing the stairs no sight of an exit door

And once swore, I would take part of this never more
But the war has left me sore, my boat sinks there’s no oar
Cry for help, but offshore my screams are squeaks instead of roars
Where’s my Lord? I listen for an answer but once again I’m ignored

I know the score, I’m losing what I’m responsible for
My own body and soul, it doesn’t matter anymore
And I am not hardcore, I’m the dirt on a pair of cleats
For every minute I don’t smoke, is another second my heart beats

You’ll lose your lungs in these streets, every block is an astray
Full of butts of past beings whose bodies badly decayed
They’re all out on display, from the mall to the café’
Cool cats of the cliché, inhale death and turn gray

Til the day they wither away, flowers of a dried bouquet
Suspected of foul play, killed, but hey they were willing to pay
Handing a slaves wage to the clerk, a merchant of death on the clock
And I was last in line when I felt my opportunity knock

My spirit unlocked, as I overheard my brand wasn’t in stock
So I faced the door ever so pure, took a step and walked
In shock, I couldn’t talk so I circled the block slow
And though I didn’t know, my strength began to grow

Started to forgo, quit smoking regained my flow
Modern Van Gogh, an artist will always overthrow
Poisoned by nicotine a fine fellow with a yellow glow
Ask me if I hate cigarettes, I’ll tell you Enough to let em go


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