Second Hand Smoke

Strike the match
Let it burn
paper turns to ash
and dances in the air
smoke has a mind of its own
freedom to explore
it taints the very
air I breathe
It crawls in my mouth
I taste it on my tongue
it fills my lungs wiht black
but you don't care
as you tell me to inhale again
But I don't need your second hand smoke
or you for that matter
you've always been a drug to me
without the labels and packaging
but tonight I start rehab
i won't let you kill me too
so take another puff of death
and breathe deeply