One More Cigarette, Honey?A Poem by KathrynI'm beginning to wonder if I believe in people because I have a heart of gold or because I am so full of stupidity.Struck matches ignite quickly, And then burn brightly in your hand until you Blow them out And watch a stream of smoke Curl into a smirk in the air. You and I were like a book of matches. Every converstation was a flame I hungered for And every disappointment A means to blow it out. An inferno can be a beautiful thing, but I should have known better than to Play with fire. Now all I'm left with is a few charred matches, A few burnt fingers, And a pile of soot That I'd rather sweep under the carpet Like in a Mary Poppins movie. I use my last match to light a cigarette And I inhale the sweet air, Tasting a hint of failure. My lungs fill with smoke And somewhere in my exhale I become a cynic. © 2009 KathrynFeatured Review
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Added on March 6, 2009Last Updated on March 6, 2009 |

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