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grandma poem

era o outono do ano
este é o navio da pérola
levantado dos mortos
três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
macia weeping
porque então, a obrigação nós vê?
com o por do sol
há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas
musing, entre o por do sol e a obscuridade
eu prendo seu coração

 



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