deepundergroundpoetry.com

Smoke me

Feeling[/font][/font]
like an almost used up cigarette,[/font][/font]
left in the cold aluminum
of your ashtray,[/font][/font]
waiting to be finished,[/font][/font]
waiting,
till the last sparks of my being[/font][/font]
ficker terminally[/font][/font]
before finally dying out in the air,[/font][/font]
its smoke, [/font][/font]
the only remaining proof of its existence,[/font][/font]
drifting off into the unknown[/font][/font]
and finally,[/font][/font]
into nothin[/font][/font]gness itself.[/font][/font]
I am but nothing now.[/font][/font]
Still you smoke me.[/font][/font]
Restlessly drifting[/font][/font]
like smoke,[/font][/font]
counting down the time[/font][/font]
till you tire of m[/font][/font]e[/font][/font]
waiting till I finally � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � �fade[/font][/font]
into the dark recesses of nonexistence.[/font][/font]
But until that day comes, [/font][/font]
I am, still, yours. � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � �[/font][/font]