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friend poem

eu fui acima e trago as ruas
como como as estrelas é este o branco, as caras nameless
em todas as coisas não faladas de
a neve sussurra sobre mim
sentar-se em seu balancim que espera seu chá
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
qual se mantem
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
fala não bem
você está desobstruído
antes do saint de bronze solemn

 



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