The stuff that we snuff
And send out in rings
With small clouds of puff
Smooches away
Our precious life
Killing us each moment
As it makes love
With its invisible knife .
Yet like fools
We are glued
to its tools.
Will we never learn
Tobacco is a cruel patron!
Hallucinated it keeps us chained
Till the very life itself is drained.
Friends! Isn't it time to realize?
If we fall to its charm
We have none
But ourselves to harm.
By Binita Jha
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