The 'False' Labeling and the 'Honest' Mistakes

Here you've got:
Cancer, followed by death,
Hand in hand with a yellow smile
And baggy eyes skipping along behind.
'Revolting', comments the dictionary.

Each puff screams booming cries of people
Clinging each other, hoping you'll stop.
You are your own enemy;
The target-your canvas, the arrow-your brush;
Swirl; White, red, white, red.

Now, as your greasy fingers hold
Suicide by your dry and decomposed mouth,
You only wonder if lip-gloss and mouthwash
Are a good enough cover-up.

The scent of nitroglycerines' brother
Along with dead skin
Arise around you.
Watch the draggy depressed
Dances of the former souls.
'They were just expired,' you say.
Excuses, excuses.

Clenching your oblivious teeth
Together trapping your prey,
You inhale 'all of life's glory.'
Along with a few more diseases.
Your hospital bed
Has never felt more like home.

Now, four walls, shrinking by the absorbed
Rebellions and disdained;
Smoke fills, fills,
Suffocating your every last breathe of contempt;
And then you-
Well, let's put it this way:
The police lines go up.
Your loyal cigarette has murdered you;
The End.

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