Two numbers that can change a memory.
A human brain needs time to change,
like the cycle of the moon
or sand falling through glass,
we require twenty-one days.
A cigarette burns like a beacon,
it removes doubt and muddles your mind,
it strokes your inner thoughts and whispers,
Oh so gently into your ear,
this life is just a little drag.
That shot glass fits finger and thumb,
like picking up a part that has fallen off.
It’s sweet innards carry us away from here,
to a reality that needs no coping,
a place where we are equal
even in our daughters eyes.
A change of attitude turns slowly,
the meek bloom from extinguished self doubt,
a feel of real worth bathes their fears
washing them away forever,
a new man, a new start.
Twenty-one days later
the cigarette is cancer on a stick
the shot glass is a bullet in your hand,
A brain can be reprogrammed.