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footprint poem

o prado estava rastejando
na obscuridade e na paz de minha cama final
a noite era preta e drear
sob a folha dusky do laurel
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
era muitas e muito um ano há
aflija-se năo para o invisível
simplesmente falando
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade
um history muito notável isto é

 



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