Is this habit to be overcome,
or is it bringing you to your ending fate.
Your lungs are becoming dull and dumb,
is it too late?
Turning a darker shade of black,
coughing, weezing, constant pain.
Closer to death with every breath you lack.
Trying hard,
not hard enough,
your efforts have been in vain.
For 64 years, smoking has been you.
Re-visiting the hospital from time to time,
but refusing treatments,
a clue,
Your years have shrunk, within the cents of a dime.
My eyes miss seeing you, once a year at most,
but these eyes want to see you, too great I’m unable to say,
I want to see your living soul, not the ghost.
Smoking brings death,
please pull away.
I no longer want these death calling fears,
I’m trying to be happy and fill myself with hope,
but the only thing this family feels is failure and tears.
I have failed you and can’t bear to cope.
Ever since my little functioning legs rose,
I have been here and you have been there.
My grandfather, your grandchild, we should be close.
I love you, I have a right to care.