Put that cigarrete down, she explained with a frown. It'll make your breath stink! Don't you ever think? Think about the trees, the bumbling bees, the kids tease, Now think about them dying, dying, dying, Because of the dirty air, Because of you, smoking in that chair. Think about your lungs, just keep on rotting, Think about yourself, think about stopping.... --- Bita :]
Wow it's hard to make a poem of smoking. I would've wrote more but i was out of ideas. And to all you smokers, why not just breathe clean air? It's all around you. Why make ash go into your lungs? How does it feel "good"? Well if there's one thing I know, smoking doesn't make your prettier.