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suicide poetry

esteja em mim como os modos eternal
melancolia, azul era
há qualquer um lá
olhar além
eu sou fevered
estes sejam
é verdadeiro que você diz que os deuses lhe são mais uso do que fairies
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
era uma oysterman novo alto
que possibilidade spiteful rouba unawares
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
para poder ver cada lado de cada pergunta

 



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