Coming from the lungs of a seasoned poet, minus the 'E' head , I will speak loudly! Than cough.
Then smoke up more of my fire to ignite the blaze.
but then I may cough again but this time a stanza or a prose may come up because of all the
Words, deep inside my- What is this sticky shit sticking to me!
Its black like tar and I cant
Seem to get it off completely as its messy like honey. Sweet
tasting honey. On a gooey bread of goodness.
-
Because if I had a choice I would
Most definitely smoke with every inhale.