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sad death poem

um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
quando uma açăo for feita para a liberdade
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
deixe um sustento da alegria vocę
com vermelho do sangue dos bordos e coraçăo da pedra
em setembro
temos nós nenhum shame?

 



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