You talk a lot for one,
who don't even know me
That cigarette glows,
hanging, just off your lip.
You think you know of things
that you've never seen
A puppet on a string
and you're turned up to mean
Want things you can't have
have the things you don't want
Reputation, a gaffe
your face all haggard and gaunt
Song and dance, un-choreographed
could have been a place, that you regularly haunt
What's that? Speak up, why ya being so quiet?
So bold to tell the tale, when nobody's around
Want it your way, when you can't you're defiant
It's fine time that someone brings you down to the ground
Life is unforgiving, when you lie in the mud
even worse when you take others with you
Stay away from me, contagious, with your bad blood
the morbid way you live is askew
About the Creator
Kelli Sheckler-Amsden
Telling stories my heart needs to tell <3 life is a journey, not a competition
If you like what you read, feel free to leave a tip, I would love some feedback
Find me on twitter @kelli7958958
or facebook
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Expert insights and opinions
Arguments were carefully researched and presented
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
Keep reading
More stories from Kelli Sheckler-Amsden and writers in Poets and other communities.
We Learn This Quietly
We Learn This Quietly No one teaches us how to leave without actually walking away. There is no guide for it, no clear moment when someone says, this is where distance begins. It happens quietly, almost politely, in ways that don’t feel dangerous until they’ve already changed everything.
By Imran Ali Shahabout an hour ago in Poets
The Path to Salvation
The late autumn evening air filled the monk's lungs, but it wasn't the season that chilled his bones. The heavy-handed presence of evil he had sensed upon entering the woods surrounding this mountain village had not bothered to conceal itself from him.
By Made in DNA3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (8)
I've never smoked but I used to like the smell. I think it was because the only times I smelled them we were off doing something fun.
Smokin words Kelli. Tell it like it is. 🥰
This was awesomeeee! Sadly, there are many people like this!
Oh the attitudes! Brilliant and to the point.
Awesome!!! Living it!!!💕❤️❤️
Dear 'k' - I'm so not a Cig-Fan: May I share something with you from my Short ~ 'Encounters' - "As I pulled into the parking lot, I happened to notice a man with his feet hanging/dangling out of the open door of his brand-new car (it still had dealer tags on it) while taking long drags on a cigarette. I couldn't resist making a comment. I said, 'THAT must be your wife's car? This way you're only getting 1/2 of the smoke wafting through that new car smell – Coulda fooled ME" 'j'
Ooh, I Love it ♥️💯✌️📝🚬😒
Burn!!! love it!