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thanksgiving poem

e assim vai
lá pela janela na casa velha
as sombras dos navios
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
era não para esse cheiro singular
faça os meninos e as meninas vão ainda
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim
conseqüentemente eu não posso
quem é o corredor nos céus
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras

 



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