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I thought all of life existed in a smoky room Confident men raising spotless claret glasses Matches firing their dreams and memories Until the last cigar reminds how time passes And now where life has taken us Is the refuge of sidewalks groaning under the masses We long for those days of fearless bravado While we wonder if meaning is buried under the ashes
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Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
Cigars
I thought all of life existed in a smoky room Confident men raising spotless claret glasses Matches firing their dreams and memories Until the last cigar reminds how time passes And now where life has taken us Is the refuge of sidewalks groaning under the masses We long for those days of fearless bravado While we wonder if meaning is buried under the ashes
mark-lecuona
Written by
American
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
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