Fifty-five years smoking
Since a teenager, taking it up
Because it was cool
Then she was hooked.
Every day, drawing smoke
Deep into her lungs
Then blowing it out,
A calming sort of action,
The same as breathing 
Without the smoke.
Yet she needed that rolled,
Tobacco stick, it helped her
Handle all her issues,
Medical and mental.
She tried to quit many times,
But she always came back,
Back to the nicotine and
The smoke.
Now she sits in the waiting room,
Waiting to be called
For her chest X-ray.
Her name is called, she stands and
Walks toward the nurse, thinking
God, I need a smoke.