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kid poem

um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
o mais saddest do ano
o justo e stately empregada doméstica, cujos olhos
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
assim perdido
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
os céus que eram ashen e sober
como uma vela branca
apenas agora
veja que eu me dou a você
têm você ouvido

 



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