Just a Cigarette

; ——

Just a Cigarette

I'm only just a cigarette, A tiny little thing, And yet the pow'r I have o'er men Is mightier than a king.

I rule not with an iron hand, I boast no kingly claim; Yet thousands found in every land Pay homage to my name.

I have no court around my throne; No armies drilled to fight. The secret of my pow'r be known: 'Tis in man's appetite.

When subject I would make of man. I test his vertebrae And if he be too weak to stand. Then I have won the day.

I bend his shoulders to a curve, I hollow out his chest, I play upon his every nerve, I never let him rest.

I make a dim and bloodshot eye, I stain his finger tips, I make his lungs feel parched and dry, I spoil his shapely lips.

I neutralize his natural will, I blight his intellect. And then I do him more things still I take his self-respect.

I leave a stench about his clothes: A foul, distasteful smell. I have him marked where'er he goes, So everyone can tell.

I rob him of his richest dow'r; Bring failure and regret. Now can you see what mighty pow'r? A simple cigarette. J. Alfred Jacob son.