I'm not smoking, I'm just carrying a very small torch. I
took it up right when you gave me a ring, quite a small one
but grand! we both thought. Give or take
four more and, by the time I am though
with the added tax on every pack, beginning in April
then on 'til I quit, I am sure I'll have paid twice over
for it, and more. But it isn't for you,
that I go through the world like this. Shed my
light, passersby incensed,
And it isn't for you,
this world's smallest torch. Oh it's you
that I carry it for, I admit, but
it's more on behalf of my very last breath, and
the sake of enjoying my way to it
that I light this torch, and I hold it high
as if lost in the mist of its heavenly scent, or
what passes for it.
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