World at odds (WAO)

I saw a cigarette pack, lying dead on my table,

Once it has life, 20 counts of 74 mm sticks,

All have something in common, light golden bud full of aroma,

I knew it has death written all over it, but still

I took it myself and give it to all best of my friends.

Johnny once asked me “Why it is an cuboids, why not in a cylinder”

I told him death need more space and it should be fair.

I starred at that dead cigarette pack, for my amazement,

It has more style than anything in that room.

It can never be filled again; I did crushed it beyond any recognition,

I had plenty of it for the day, but need a few more before I call it a day,

A white pack was thrown at me; it was cheap and shorter than the last one,

But who cares I am sure even the costly one cannot filter death,

Smoking life slowly and slowly, with faint white smoke filling in the room,

It was an invention of life time; I wish it come with some weeds flavor,

I broke the cigarette in half to declare it was an end to the meet,

Many of you may not know, it takes lots of guts and dehydrated feelings

no one can question you When you kill the death in itself by half?

Labels: alternative, Blanks, citric, drugs, Fiction/flights of fantasy, Life, panthaism, rock