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poem for pastors

pouca porta foi alcançada no último
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
tem por muito tempo a luz solar do verão brilhada
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
eu olhei em cima do céu glorious
todo meu amor para meu doce
do assoalho ao teto
para poder ver cada lado de cada pergunta
esta bacia de prata antiga de meus
a agonia de ter demasiado poder

 



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