Dear Fag

Dear cigarette, are you my friend? Your lovely smiles, are they for me? The filter on your other end, does it protect, is it the key to disallowing noxious gases from occupying healthy lungs? I see, when wearing reading glasses small cuts that look like ladder rungs, inside your smooth and shiny filter. The number of those cuts decides how toxic, let's say out of kilter, the puffs will be to my insides. So tell me, handsome cigarette, could it be true what I have heard, that I should think and smoke instead a colourful, though dried out turd? Cause cigarettes are coffin nails: You smoke enough, they close the lid, and turds originate near tails... I'm talking to my youngest kid! Perhaps my words for smoky ears will penetrate the haze, prevent a tragedy through fears that years cannot erase.