A brace of soldiers arranged in a pack,
Ready to die at the stroke of a match.

Dressed in white, a few inches tall,
Cursed by most, a legend of fall.

A vice, An addiction; A creep, An enemy,
Poison, Death, Malpractice and Felony.

Disregarded always with sheer disdain.
Always a faulty balance to measure its pain.

On a deeper dive, A clearer view,
A shoulder to cry on, firm like very few.

Never Betrays, Never lies,
Never changes as time flies.

Burns itself for other’s delight
Suffers but never a tear in sight.

Myriad Purposes, Varied Reasons,
A trustworthy companion for all seasons.

For it’s demand is not to be treated as a jewel,
But the current treatment is way too cruel.

With mere expectations of a little less hate,
For dying and burning is already in its fate.

For it gives solace to many in distress.
For it also serves as an antidote for stress.

For it does kill, but it can also heal,
For when the smoke clears, much better does someone feel.

A fantastic piece of writing. So true. By the way, I quit 14 days ago.