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sad poetry

desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
flores dos bebês
e como poderia você sonho da reunião
escute
diz de épocas velhas boas
paredes e enorme elevados
no recolhimento da escuridão e pedem
temos nós nenhum shame?
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
muito bem, você liberais
o que mim lhe devem
têm você não ouvido

 



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