She had an intimidatingly rough face
a face that would 'rough someone up' -
but she was cool, and humble like your grandma
when she is in a jolly mood
But she smoked cigar after cigar
Often tilting her head at a slight angle
as she puffed out, as though she is near
a ground-breaking thought
a philosophical thought that can change mankind
like the nothingness of our existence
But all she ever does is puff away
staring into a blank distance
an unreachable canvass of hers where she draws
beautiful yet obscure dreams of our meaningless existence
She sips her beer, too,
in between puffs too
she is at peace with her demons
You can tell that - everybody can tell that
And she does not care about what you think
she cares about her cigar, and her beer
and the things that make her seek refuge
in her blank, unreachable canvas of hers
a canvas that rejects the notion of carcinogens
she'll probably tell you that nobody knows what causes cancer
she is at peace,
she is peace with her cigar
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