Cigarette

A cloud of smoke,
masquerading mist,
adrift a lullaby blue;

Spreads across,
these shallow plains,
silent, greyish hue;

Fills my lungs,
cold caresses,
burns me inside;

A wave of shiver,
violent calm,
flows over my hide;

Polluted skies,
fill my world,
with smoke and acid rain;

The smoke that rises,
cig-a-rette,
soothes the masses brains;

So we may die in vain;
Content.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar

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Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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