A poem from a few years ago.

Cigarettes In Blank Verse
On Childhood

There was a filter once upon a time
To keep out all that God-forsaken tar.
It stood between the smoke and most the taste,
And all the while provided peace of mind.

Now filters altogether are not bad;
They simply should not make one feel secure.
Despite the distance from that cursed spark,
When faced with flame the filters always burn.