A Poem About Smoking

Hi. Here is a poem about smoking. It’s fictional but shows why you shouldn’t smoke.

The Dreadful Story of Pauline and the Cigarettes.
Mamma and Nurse went out one day,
And left Pauline alone at play;
A girl of thirteen, she was old enough,
Soon belly ring, tattoo, and dipping snuff.
She danced around the room singing “Look at me!
I’m young, I’m cute, I’m like completely free!”
Then upon the table she did find
Her mother’s cigarettes in kind.
Pauline marveled at how they smoked
When her mother would step out for a toke.
In rain, snow or sleet they’d still burn
So she decided it was time to take a turn.
The magic of the light, the fire, the smolder,
How grown up, how fashionably older!
But kind Mamma and Nurse had told her,
That if she touched them they would scold her.
“Screw that!” Pauline squealed with laughter,
“I’m smoking today, I’ll think after.”
When Harold and Harmon, the golden fish, heard the news
They swam circles round their bowl until they turned blue.
Splash, splish! their tails did beat. Splash, splish!
Your parents have forbidden you, that’s their wish!
But it was too late, the match was lit,
The cigarette was in her mouth, the first hit.
Pauline sucked it in, the smoke and the tar,
She coughed, she sneezed, but she had come this far.
She puffed again, deeper still, the smoke in her chest,
Wasn’t this grand, too cool, the best?
Now exhaled like orange smoke from a dragon,
In the corner of the room lay her childhood red wagon.
When Harold and Harmon, the golden fish, saw this,
They leapt out from their bowls into an ashen dish.
They said, “Oh, wicked, impish Miss!”
And gasped for air,
A drowning pair.
“It’s wrong, you know,” they cried.
Knowing that in a few minutes they would die.
“Your mother has forbidden it, she knows full well;
The tumor grows, the heart dies, the feet swell!”
Now see, dear children, a piteous deed,
Pauline is hooked, she can’t stop her need.
She puffs again and again, three sticks in her mouth,
A fourth, a fifth, and soon her lips are full as a trout’s!
The smoke seeps from her eyes and steams out her ears,
Her hair catches fire, she burns, even her tears!
Then how the golden fish did cry,
What else, poor fishies, could they try?
They had leapt out to save her, their little princess,
But the smoky air, the dark coat of ash too much a mess.
“We’ll surely not last,” they screamed. “Someone please help us fast!
Hurry now, come swift. We’re drowning, she’s burning, alas!”
Pauline vanished part by part,
Her mouth, her nose, her hair, her heart.
When her Mamma and Nurse got back
They found only her cigarettes in a stack,
With two frozen goldfish making not a sound,
And a smoking little pile of cinders on the ground.
“We told her so, didn’t we, Ma?” the Nurse asked.
“We did, we did,” Mamma sighed and tisked.
“I suppose it’s my fault, I’m so upset.”
She bent over and picked up a stick still lit.
She walked to the back door and stepped out for a turn,
The rain, the snow, the sleet, and the tobacco still burned.

This is from:
The Examining Room Of DR Charles
It is meant to get the message about smoking across.

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