Cigarette Day Dream

When will the sky show blue again? I ask.

As I watch the darken night become day,

Everyone fights like the wars in Ukraine.

This heavy air seems to weigh down on me. 

Why does the breeze smell like a cigarette? 

 As it enters the lungs of our children, 

Constantly pouring into their bodies

This happens all over the world, constantly. 

The smoke is swirling, whirling around us. 

But the newfound second hand symptoms vanish:

As the unnoticed children do suffer.

However protection is always near-

The forces of ‘good’ will unite us all.

However if we rid the air of smog,

Maybe we will hear the earth’s monologue.