Marlboro used to be Woman’s cigarette,
not any Man’s, but he too took that away.
Women are supposed to smoke Newport.
How am I to do that? With no money!
I don’t even have a dime to my name.
When the sun goes down, I walk around.
How do you pretend to throw away a gum wrapper?
I collect them just for this reason.
Pretend or no pretend, this craving won’t be ignored.
My clean hands pull out the longest butts.
The nice Marlboro lighter was taken away.
I lost the gas station lighter too.
I’m not the strong Marlboro Cowboy.
I was never the sophisticated Newport smoker.
My lips are not the first to touch this poison.
When I’m certain no is close to question me, I light a match.
The first inhale tastes so good.
I know I should stop, but I can’t and won’t,
and neither will the next after me.