SMOKE

 SMOKE

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