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short funny poem

eu ouvi-os na noite
uma névoa estava dirigindo para baixo
a festa real foi feita
para prestar atenção o dia inteiro à onda azul ondular e quebrar
bonito
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
no porto de york novo
os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
o mais saddest do ano
algum queixou-se ao mestre
porque sĂŁo as coisas que nĂŁo tĂŞm nenhuma morte
deixe o unsaid encantador das palavras

 



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