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haiku poetry

bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
eu v todas as sagacidades humanas
eu disse, mim fechei meu coração
homem frio stern
havia três no prado pelo ribeiro
eu sobre-tinha preparado o evento
pela costa, pelo mar
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
eu sou o vento que wavers
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
caras bonitas, tragical
eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness
truely

 



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