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mom poem

última meia-noite
nunca em toda minha vida
escute
por muito tempo há, no moonlight novo
trançado e tecido
os dias hypocritic
não gire sua cabeça
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
deixe um sustento da alegria você
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
fala não bem

 



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