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lost love poem

estourou o vinho feroz
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nĂłs sĂŁo
a noite Ă© escura, e os ventos do inverno
em e sobre
como ela
deixe o unsaid encantador das palavras
pĂ´de tĂŞ-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
eu amei uma mulher

 



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