Weak Stick
A lot of traits do come to mind
When I see smokers pull
A cigarette out from a box
And take a deep breath full
Of chemicals, carcinogens
And nicotine and tar
Here’s the picture that they paint
When sucking that cigar
I see a lazy person who
Wants to feel better fast
I see an futile person who
Can’t learn that it won’t last
I see a selfish person who
Pollutes the air we breath
I see a full grown baby who
Still has the need to teethe
I see a foolish person who
Keeps wasting all their dough
To paint their lungs a darker shade
And make the tumor grow
I see a weak person who doesn’t
See the strength inside
I see a coward who searches
For close places to hide
I see a corpse that’s wasting time
And money and the love
Of all their friends and family
And maybe God above
I see an ingrate piss away
Their health when there’s so many
Who’d give the world to have it back
‘Cause they do not have any
I see a slave with no courage
To break free from their chains
A wimp who can’t withstand withdrawal
Who can’t endure the pains
A spoiled rotten little brat
Who thinks life’s all about
Comfort, pleasure, luxury
Taking the easy route
I challenge every smoker to
Accomplish this one feat
Next time that you get a craving
Before you light that treat
Throw it on the ground and crush
That weak stick with your heel
And throw the rest down there as well
And give them the same deal
Don’t cry about how much they cost
You’ve burned a lot before
Makes no difference if they are
In your lungs or the floor
Crush those weak sticks and then wait
For those shakes to begin
Instead of looking for a fix
Focus and look within
Concentrate and clear your mind
And take it like the rest
Don’t tremble and cry for help
Stand up and beat your chest!
Growl, show some backbone and
Control your weakened mind
Stop being so aloof and
To your own strength so blind
Weaker ones than you have quit
And they put you to shame
Every time you feel the sudden
Urge to light that flame
Lazy, futile, selfish, baby
Foolish, weak and coward
One step closer to a corpse
With every stick devoured
Ingrate, slave, wimp and spoiled
Rotten little brat
Who doesn’t realize where the
True calming force is at
And sensitive because they never
Want to hear that they
Are doing anything wrong, but
They don’t use that ash tray
Take a look at your sidewalk
Next time to take a stroll
Count the cigarette butts that
You see on your patrol
Then say smokers aren’t lazy
Aloof and big ingrates
Foolish, weak and cowardly
And all these other traits
“But hey, I smoke and I always
Put my butt in the trash!”
Good for you, now go collect
All of your drifting ash
Miro