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grandmother poem

sadly falando
sobre o rio, no monte
por muito tempo há, no moonlight novo
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
ao lado de um campo stricken
são você vivo?
quem ama a chuva
uma névoa estava dirigindo para baixo
paredes e enorme elevados
conseqüentemente eu não posso
se ele
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela

 



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