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funny poetry

havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
minha mĂŁe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
short e doce, e nĂłs viemos Ă  extremidade dela
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
sabe uma liberação barata
na obscuridade e na paz de minha cama final
levantou-se e o âmbar era o por do sol no rio
sĂŁo vocĂŞ vivo?
veja, eles retornam
eu quero saber Ă s vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
vinho velho a beber

 



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