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inspirational poem

qual se mantem
o alvorecer era verde maçã
veja, eles retornam
uma milha atrás
têm você ouvido
sob a lua da colheita
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
todos quiet ao longo do potomac
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
têm você não ouvido
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso

 



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