the empty lives of two wartime smokers
NO FIRE BUT A LOT OF SMOKE
“Empty the ashtrays, darling
Get rid of that awful smell
Of cigarette smoke wafting
Out of the windows as well.
I want the whole house empty
No family lives here any more.
Mum puffed her way to a coffin
Cancer showed Dad to the door.
Ok they were both almost ninety
You may say they had a good run.
But not us and the kids, watching
The only thing they ever called fun.
In wartime it calmed their nerves,
Maybe. But they never could stop.
Sixty a day gone on money wasted
In empty bank accounts not a drop,
Of security left for the young ones
Nothing valuable left to bequeath,
Just empty rooms, smelling of fags.
Two graves and a token red wreath”.