Wednesday, April 15, 2009

32. Cigarette

Slowly, silently I am dying
Watching my ashes fall to the ground,
Stuck between your cruel fingers
How can I ever escape?

I know, I will be on your lips
Only until you get bored
And mercilessly stub me off
In the slaughter house of ashtray
Or carelessly throw me away
To burn in a lonely manner
Until some passer-by stamps me.

5 comments:

R. Ramesh said...

very good one..u should not have given cigarette as title..the suspense would have been interesting.haha..keep up the great work and continue to motivate us buddy

Aviral said...

very good, but the hindi version was better

Indrani said...

No sympathies.

Sai Charan said...

Does a cigarette really deserve more respect?

Well yes, this poem is quite funny with nicely weaved lines, keep writing more...

humanobserver said...

More dangerous than alcohol.