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poem for dad

o prado estava rastejando
e assim vai
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
esteja em mim como os modos eternal
eu estou morrendo
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
eu sei o que você está indo dizer
você diz que você me ama

 



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