"Words"
With my cigarettes,
The smoke surrounds me,
Words come out,
And I feel freedom,
The words that speak,
In the silence of the night,
Mixed with the smokey air,
The words I can't feel,
Until you touch me,
Just a hand on my face,
The people you see,
The voices you hear,
Unless you're blind and deaf,
Like the words;
That come out on paper.