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death poetry

rode-me para baixo pelo prado
ame-me no último, ou se você não
eu não posso dizê-lo agora
desolado e solitário
eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
sombras voadas que varrem perto
nunca em toda minha vida

 



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