I smoked the cigar I got for you-
For Father's Day last year.
It was old, dried out. Cracked in many places.
Much like you are, if not in person.
You left it in a cabinet,
After you left
I am unsure if
You ever planned to smoke it-
-But I did.
All in all,
It was alright. Not as good as I had hoped-
But then again,
Neither were you.
So it's gone now.
Burnt up in a fury of ash and smoke.