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poem for dad

dentro desta sepultura humilde um conqueror encontra-se
completamente dos rasgos
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
eu sei o que vocę está indo dizer
todos tragam os anos
ao longo de um river-side
ao longo dos bancos
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
sob a lua da colheita
o dia é feito
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
sol e vento e batida do mar

 



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