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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=353697" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Cigar Store Indian</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Wind rushed over the rooftops <br>and into the small common that lay tucked in between two buildings. <br>With it - gusts of snow stung the face. I pulled a cigarette from its package. <br> <br>Matches were a bad choice.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The ember burns bright and that taste brings me right back to 16.<br>Lungs hacked and wheezed - seemed like a lousy deal, <br>giving up your innocence for a punch in the chest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nostalgia </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I rubbed my fingers together - it was getting cold.<br>Not too bright really, standing outside in the snow and sleet.<br>Sometimes I wonder who's smoking who.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Philosophical nonsense</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Do we stomp out our cigarettes? Or do our cigarettes stomp us out? <br>What keeps me standing outside in the cold, like a cigar store Indian?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=C.S.+Smith">C.S. Smith</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=353697" data-title="Cigar Store Indian de C.S. Smith" data-description="Wind rushed over the rooftops 
and into the small common that lay tucked in between two buildings. 
With it - gusts of snow stung the face. I pulled a cigarette from its package. 
 
Matches were a bad choice.

The ember burns bright and that taste..."></div>
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