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footprint poem

veja, eles retornam
era o outono do ano
uma névoa estava dirigindo para baixo
pela costa, pelo mar
dê-me
sob a lua da colheita
alguns dias mais ventosos
a música i ouvido com você era mais do que a música
quando você vier hoje à noite
eu não pray para a paz
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias

 



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