The man next door, I don't know his name
He smokes in the apartment stairwell at 3am
Sits on a step, alone
leaves ashes and burnt cigarettes behind
I don't report him to the landlord, though I don't like smoking,
nor stairs with tobacco's remains
But a man who smokes at 3am deserves his peace, I conclude
And his clouds of aloneness are gone by the early morn'