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grandma poem

o que mim lhe devem
eu vi que você hunched e tiritando nas pedras
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
é ido
não permaneça não mais
a algum os deuses gordos
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
esta é a canção da juventude
eu ando abaixo os trajetos do jardim
os dias melancólicos vieram

 



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