A(pril) Little Help from my Friends:

I Once Was A Smoker

By: Jordan Whitehead

                                               I don’t have a problem, what do you mean?

A state of pre-contemplation was smothering me.

The first time I tried it I will never forget,

The guys, that girl, I just wanted to fit in.

Dopamine released, relaxation occurred,

This is where smoking cigarettes caused my true identity to become blurred.

Sure I became popular, and yeah I got the girl, but nicotine had me handcuffed, nicotine changed my world.

When the coolness went away and I was ready to quit,

the addiction blazed strong as my very soul felt as if it would split.

I tried to play with a pencil, I tried to chew gum,

Stronger than heroin and cocaine, nicotine I couldn’t stay away from.

I became hostile and impatient, I couldn’t breathe during sport,

I always felt Hungry and depressed, my mind began to scream abort, abort.

So after a short time I tapped out and went back

Even though I already knew smoking was turning my lungs jet black.

Years went by followed by lapse and relapse,

Countless battles brought my will to stop to a complete collapse.

and without that will, the motivation and desire

No one can reach their destination it’s like a car without rims, wheels, and tires.

One day I was just walking down the side of the street

Seen a group of kids, seen a boy, I said, “Hey he looks like me.”

Confusion on his face, pressure from his friends, I’m sure you can guess what he held in his hand.

I rushed to him quickly before he took his first puff

and spilled my smoking stories straight off the cuff

We took a walk and talked, he was a great kid.

Played sports, like to hunt, he just wanted to fit in.

As we approached his house his whole attitude had changed

No pressure, he was laughing, and no confusion remained.

As we said our goodbyes and his face with a big smile being a smoker for a second was almost worth the while

Because with tears in his eyes he said, “thanks for tonight.”

I said, “for what?” and he replied, “Mister, you changed my life.”

Its been a few years since that warm summer night

I’m now in the action stage and my future seems bright.

I lost my freedom when my smoking began

But I continued someone’s freedom by becoming a hero to a young man.

My identity was lost but now it is found

and my freedom returned when I believed without smoking I am unbound.

I once was a smoker.

Not written by me, but I wanted to share it. Good poem.