Smoke | Teen Ink

Smoke

May 21, 2019
By aks01 BRONZE, Berwyn, Pennsylvania
aks01 BRONZE, Berwyn, Pennsylvania
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The glass always seems half empty.
Instead of sunsets, I see the dust on the window.
Smiles aren’t what they used to be.
Just an array of teeth.
Heart beats steady like a clock.
Mind is clouded with endless thoughts.
I sit on the stairs where we once sat,
Laughing at the little jokes you always made.
You were always there for me.
Every soccer game,
Cheering more loudly than any other parent.
Every school concert,
Applauding until your hands turn bright red.
I miss being together.
I get angry at you for leaving me so soon.
I silently cry at night
Clench onto the blanket you once got from your journey home.
Your shirts still smell like you.
Like smoke and your cologne.
Those gargantuan forts we built are now just old blankets and pillows.
Talking to you one more time is all I ever want.
I wish I had put the phone down.
Instead, I was ignorant, dismissing your conversation.
I wish you had put your cigarettes down.
Instead you didn’t stop.
You thought I didn’t see you.
Layering yourself with cologne to cover up the potent smell.
 I knew you were a good guy,
With a sincere and caring heart.
I used to watch you from my bedroom window.
You would stand in the moonlight on the back porch.
I still see you.
Yet when I go to reach your grey coat.
You fade away.
Your voice still echoes in my head.
I still call your number just to hear your voicemail again.
“I am busy right now, I will catch you later”
You can't catch me anymore.
It’s too late now.
You’ve withered to smoke.

 

 
 
 
 
 


The author's comments:

This poem is about a girl who lost her father at a young age due to smoking. It portrays the daughter's view on her recent loss.


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This article has 2 comments.


Jrupa said...
on Jun. 14 2019 at 2:38 pm
Jrupa, Berywn, Pennsylvania
0 articles 0 photos 1 comment
Well written !

Vikas said...
on Jun. 11 2019 at 8:03 pm
Vikas, Mumbai, Other
0 articles 0 photos 1 comment
Good work. Very hearth touching poem. Keep writing. Keep shining. All the very best