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poem for dad

dę-me a fome
irmăo, eu sou fogo
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
eu despise meus amigos mais do que vocę
o ar é como uma borboleta
macia weeping
caído assim
material da lua
com o por do sol
eu ouvi-me que uma determinada princesa
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
vinho velho a beber
alguns dias mais ventosos
escute

 



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