AN OPEN LETTER TO CIGARETTE SMOKERS

Your nicotine chokes me

like Jack the Ripper gagging

a prostitute.

I admire your determination

to die at an early age.

At least you're resolute.

Come rain, snow, or freezing

temperatures, the glow

from your cigarette will

keep you warm.

After all, it's all about you.

You're cigarettes aren't

doing anyone else

any harm.

Cigarette smoker, your

addiction is killing me

more than it is

killing you!

I've probably lost

about fifteen years of

my life thanks to your

addiction.

It's true!

It's true!

My cardigan wreaks of

nicotine, because your filth

has soaked in to my clothes.

How much money I've spent

at the dry cleaners, only God

the Father knows!

Ah, your teeth are a lovely

shade of buttery popcorn yellow, and your

breathe is the stale

scent of earth.

If you should burn in

hell for your addiction,

please don't expect from me

any mirth.

Let's assume that you won't

go to hell. At least you

will smell like

you've been there.

From the nicotine drenched

clothing foulness, and the singed

off arm hair.

I find it some what ironic

that you're not in jail. Your

cigarette smoking is killing

everyone around you, but you

don't care, you say

“What the hell!”

Your cigarettes are a

deadly weapon, ah but

true the legal type.

I think you'd look better

out of your nicotine stained

clothes, and better in the

county Pen stripes.

You murderer! You thief!

You smoker of death!

For God sake take

that crap some where

else. I'm taking my

dying breath.