• harshin 31w

    The morning puff

    He sneaked to the terrace
    With a brush clutched in one hand
    And a golden foiled box in the other
    He looked around so that no one sees
    Put the brush aside and popped a cig

    Leaning over to check on his wife
    He lit the cigarette with a shaky hand
    But the moment it touches his lips
    His morning breath came out with smoke

    With this puff he no longer seem swayed
    Not bothered anymore, he breathed out again
    As if he had stolen a diamond and went scot free

    He thought of the day and its monotony
    But in his hands were the repition he loved
    He believes it helps him shit and reset it all

    He is a firm believer in that paper roll
    Not in god, not in his family, not in his friends
    Cos only a cig had proved its worth or so he thought

    He placed the statutory warning upside down
    To find another on the back side and looked away
    He put it away once with the call of his wife

    Went down and got ready for work
    Lecturing on how powerful his sub conscious is
    And how he believes in only the right things