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retirement poem

disse
o ar é como uma borboleta
você recorda
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
como nivelar cai
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
quando eu era quebrou em Londres
não seja falso
para trás, gire para trás
alguns dias mais ventosos
a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante

 



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