Coughing in the corner he tried to blow away the excess smoke. Once again he brought the cigarette to his lips and breathed in the poison. This little cigarette seemed harmless yet he knew of the death he was walking into. But he didn't care. In fact he welcomed it with open arms. They say a cigarette takes away two days of your life but nonetheless he smoked, cutting down the days like ribbons on a present. His ability to care had been lost a long time ago. It was just a dying soul left behind, soon joining the other side. A short time left in this seemingly endless torture.
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PoetryJust a few short quotes by me. A little piece for others to see... Highest ranking in Poetry #148 (02-07-17)