I sat here in the cold,
Breathing in the nicotine that was killing my lungs,
Exhaling the cold bitter sadness from within,
I could see the grey mist,
Slowly leaving my lips as I exhale.
I look around as I smoked my last cigarette,
Seeing that the park was completely empty.
The cold Winter day made the park look so beautiful.
The snow on the dead trees,
The white back round in New York City.
It's all just so beautiful.
Life is just so beautiful.
As I finished my cigarette,
I stood up and walked away,
Throwing away my last cigarette,
My last pain...
