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autumn poem

năo esteja irritado com mim
porque săo as coisas que năo tęm nenhuma morte
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
acima de e para baixo vai
eu encho este copo
doce e forte
ao longo de um river-side
o amor foi cantado mil maneiras
alguns dos hurts que vocę se curou
que possibilidade spiteful rouba unawares
mas alas, sonhos justos
noite misteriosa

 



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