The cigarette

Green is the smile,
Blue is the soul,
Deep within this happy being,
Once, a cigarette had burnt a hole.

I have saved the butt,

From the ashes of my soul,

As every other poison fell short,

In filling up the hole.

I live, partly, choking, mostly,

As blue smoke clouds my soul,

Black breath feigns the greenest smile,

To cover up the stinky hole.

© 2009 Rituparna Das