I wrote this after reflecting on why I do the things I do. We all are being influenced by something, whether it be a good or bad influence on our lives.

It was like second-hand smoke,

Seeping slowly into my body,

Creeping to my mouth to make me choke.

It no longer snuck around like something naughty.

Now it was just there, loud and bold,

Waiting for me, its next victim.

My life, a spectacle to behold,

When under its pressures I did succumb.

Trying to keep it out, I held my breath,

But no matter what, something was always open.

With its harmful effects somewhat like meth,

I was never the same; I was broken.

How dare they have started the fire

When we were there with them.

Forever in our mouth, the taste we acquired.

Our living habits from them stemmed.

Did we do anything with what plagued us?

Some of us overcame and learned from it.

We all look at the cancerous thing that was,

And wonder how it happened, when it all hit.

Pressed between their lips and breathed out

The words that made this all come about.