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grandma poem

os arcos da ponte vermelha
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
sobre o rio beckon a mim
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
eu sou fevered
eu ouvi-os na noite
a noite era preta e drear
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
a o que uma mulher a comparará beloved
eu era um goddess ere o mármore me encontrou

 



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