SMOKE | THE POETESS | Poem

I saw the clock struck 2

Rolled my eyes and sigh I blew

 

Went out upstairs

Ignoring the framed stares

 

Peeked into rooms

Where reality dooms

 

Maybe Sam’s flying a plane

And Father’s away from loss and gain

 

I can recognize

My mother’s pillow blanket disguise

 

I climb the stairs to top

Radio playing quiet pop

 

As I was earlier thinking

I see the smoke rising

 

One burnt at her down

She sat in her white gown

 

She was an angel indeed

But way out of general creed

 

With a smile and relief

She let away all her grief

 

As she breathed out

In the sky before a pout

 

She motioned me to sit

As she shoved out the grit

 

I told her my problem

She had only one way to solve them

 

I told her about imagining

What father & Sam might be dreaming

 

She said “same days”

“You don’t dream” she says

 

She offered me her cigaredon

And I refused like daily tradition

 

I’ve stopped stopping her

From committing her own murder

 

But the scars on her face

Revealed her men’s grace

 

With a sudden grate

I think I’ll meet the same fate

 

Her smoke is now handy

I feel young and randy

 

As I breathe in

My world experiences a spin

 

I let it hit my nerves

Go down my curves

 

And as a I exhale

The smoke comes out pale

 

With my first one down

The stars formed my crown

 

I felt so calm

The present seemed warm

 

That day I got my first scar

From my cheek bone not really far

 

And as I held another cigaredon

I made a new tradition

 

With a lot more smoke & little cry

My another sleepless night went by

 

 ~THE POETESS  

http://ps-poems.blogspot.com/

 

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