AddictedA Poem by Barbara Walker
Written for a poem contest on addiction, abuse of some substance.
Addicted, to a poison, legal,
if you're over eighteen,
you can purchase cigarettes
and look grand and regal!
That's what they said, way back when,
watching tv programs, day or night,
there was the Marlboro Man,
at the beginning, middle or end.
Just fifteen, I thought I knew it all,
went to the service station,
put twenty-six cents in the machine
and mistakenly, bought unfiltered Pall Mall!
Hiding in the canyon, with my friend,
coughing, hacking, gasping,
spitting tobacco off of our lips,
we smoked a cigarette to the end!
Amazing how commercials can get us to buy,
heralding the very best or latest,
you just HAVE to HAVE,
but, sometimes...they lie.
We'll make you an addict,
despite emphesema and cancer,
with that craving for nicotine,
you'll have to have our little white stick!
We know you'll get the itch-
say it smells awful, tastes bad, too
and you'll annnounce,
I'm going to quit!
No concentration, just can't think,
turned into the Super B***h!
Oh, it tastes soooo good,
I'm so sorry, world,
I'm so addicted,
I'd really quit, if I could.
You cannot smoke in bars
or on an airplane
or at the beach
or in someone else's car.
You feel like you are slime,
so many others have quit,
but, give me a place to light up
and I'll do it every time.
Addict, a word that brings tears,
oh, that nicotine poison,
how I love it and hate it,
for forty-two flaming years!
© 2013 Barbara Walker
Added on July 13, 2009
Last Updated on March 17, 2013
San Diego, CA
AboutI am retired from the Postal Service. I find I write poetry to help myself through difficult times and I have written many poems in response to the chronic pain I've been living with for 20 years. I .. more..