Filters in the Street MAG

April 10, 2017
By ZekeP BRONZE, Georgetown, South Carolina
ZekeP BRONZE, Georgetown, South Carolina
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

A cigarette, few regrets, and
A quiet night staring,
At you.
Brown inside, breathing cyanide.
Five white sticks, and I’m
Okay, we’re missing the point,
Habitual, cynical, a real muddied coin.
Fraser a smile, displayed happy when we’re not.
Smoking heavy I thought it so simple,
Pack-a-day, and you’re getting me dizzy.
Stuck you on my arm, watched the skin crumple,
Coughing out fluid-filled lungs, with mucus that fizzy.
Tar-filled lungs, like Jonah in the ocean,
Suffocating me, blue, and I’m choking,
Physical injury from stone throwing,
Can’t trudge back, pain showing.
Ripped filters, cutting with glass
This one’s my last,
Escaping my caste
Can’t breathe you no more,
Hurt me worst,
As I’m forced out the door.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

on Apr. 13 2017 at 4:55 pm
HereSheIs BRONZE, Wellesley, Massachusetts
3 articles 0 photos 192 comments

Favorite Quote:
"We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light." -Plato

That's a really raw, creative and potent way to talk about addiction to smoking and it's dangers. Good job!

Swoon Reads

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!