He couldn't have been
more than eleven years old.
As innocent as Adam
as fiesty as Eve.
Caught me smoking a cigarette
and proceeded to ask me
why I waste my time
with such filth.
Why I choose to poison my lungs.
Not wanting to deal with a child
I simply told him that I didn't care
and thought we'd go our
seperate ways.
Upon hearing my response
to his question
he glared at me as if I were a
mentally disturbed person.
As if I were sculpting
my own tomb.
Tells me,
'Not me, I'll never smoke.
I'm going to live forever.'
I just laughed
quietly to myself.
Cute kid.
Raymond Rivera
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/do-not-hurt-angels/
