Day one and my arm is slightly numb,
Thirty to go, none of them will be fun.
Stomach churning, feeling lightheaded,
Ulcers burning, nerves are shredded.
Mind is racing, hands kept busy,
Stress increasing, god woe is me.
Armed with a jumbo pack of digestives, I want to live,
A pocketful of Extra Ice my will power will not give.
No more spending a tenner a day while saying no to my kids,
A treat for each of them every time the habit my self forbids.
During temptation I think of them and look at their photographs,
I imagine the additional years filled with quality laughs.
One day at a time, sweet Jesus it's going to get rough,
But I can be a stubborn git and by Christ I can be tough.
Cravings come in three minute bursts repeatedly at first,
With this addiction I've let myself be cursed a desire worse than thirst.
It's beyond time to stand up and be a man, throw smokes in the bin,
I'm stronger than nicotine, this time me, not the sticks will win.
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