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suicide poetry

um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
sadly falando
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
deus
sad săo que sabem năo o amor
gloom
esse ano
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
todos tragam os anos
uma vez este turf macio
levantado dos mortos
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
eu era um goddess ere o mármore me encontrou

 



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