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teen poem

eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
ainda seu cinza balança a torre acima do mar
uma palavra do vôo de aqui e lá
com os olhos meek, marrons
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness
o amor foi cantado mil maneiras
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
três anos há hoje
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
mas eu não posso lê-lo agora
eu penso d esplêndido justo
aflija-se não para o invisível
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred

 



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