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suicide poetry

quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
se eu souber o narrow uma prisão é amor
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
sombras voadas que varrem perto
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
perguntam-me onde eu estive
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
caído assim
em números mournful
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio

 



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