Her puff with envy of gluttony I watched
As thoughts in my mind to ape her thrashed
Hard a battle to resist I fought
Hoping the battle would be naught
To copy her so great was my desire and thought.

Days and years soon passed by
Her desire to puff n smoke increased
Her skin once so full of glow
Was parched and dull with years
And her breath in shallow grew slow and slow.

As spasms of cough her often choked
Which at times in me only sympathy evoked
Frail she grew; delicate and brittle
Sick she was by her addiction belittle’
To help her I could do was only little.

Before her age old she grew
As strength failed her from each sinew.
Her hand I often held
As rage in me against her addiciton swelled.
And in me tears of helplessness welled

Plauged she was by lungs cancer
Which is a smokers disaster
As her suffering and agony renewed grew
Her addiction I knew, was beyond “taming of the shrew”.

With all her frail might and knight’s brave
Her last battle with courage she fought.
Yet to death she was doome’
By a cigaretter – every smokers ka-boom.