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No cure, they say.
Easier to die in this way -
Quit smoking now and it will be paltry.
Now or later, the toll beckons me.

Finding the reasons to remain
I sway between hope and insane.
Years hooked up to a machine
My demise yet remains to be seen.

Let me live while I can
Allow the smoke to sift through the sand.
And as I breathe my final in strife
Hold my hand and celebrate my life.

By: D. Dorothy

I do not like what you are saying, because it is very sad.
But I DO like your poem, because it communicates the helplessness, sadness, and despair clearly.
It appears to be a poem illustrating the 'coming to terms' with choices, and what cannot be changed...and asking/doing the best the person can under the circumstances- "Hold my hand and celebrate my life."
No matter how healthy, none of us know how long we have left in this life.
This final assertion could be a call to action for all of us.

Thank you...absolutely on all points.

You are welcome.

Wow... this is a great poem. In so few words you've managed to tell a story that almost brings me to tears but also gives me hope. Great work