We are cigaretes.
Immersed in the asphalt of rainy days
You lit us. You burn us. Will you let us live?
Why is our existence so short?
What are you doing for the good of humanity?
Is our life of no value?
Are we mere embers on the paper of days?
Is that why you exploit us?
Your lips destroy our lives.
We are your luxury pleasure.
We are your Marlboro
Lucky strikes of skin and blood.
Reduced to ashes by your ego
But you know, higher class citizen,
Clad in the decency of the lies you tell yourself
Feel good about yourself — But
Do not dare to be as intense as us, when you light our pyre
Day after night – night after day;
Incessantly you have spit on us
We had no rest, no respect –
No freedom, however long the Sundays were.
Your laughter carried our death;
How long must this continue?
How long shall we be burnt in silence?
We were just that; your cigarettes, but –
We shall not remain captive
Of the world that holds us prisoners
That tiny world, like a cigaret’s box
Narrow and hopeless streets.
But – You know one day
All united, hands joined-
We will shake your pocket,
And when you will feel the most carefree,
Burning we shall fall from your hands
We will set your lips, your joy in fire
Silently, suddenly reacting
We’ll torch your homes
And then when the night will have extinguish all revenges
We will set you in flames
For justice lies in the heart of cigaret’s ends