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mom poem

gloom
escute
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
aflija-se não para o invisível
quando eu olhei em seus olhos
aqueles no superior dizem que o conhecem, terra -- são liars
eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
glass-blower do tempo
eu penso d esplêndido justo
é frequentemente não assim?
agite
nós não éramos muitos
eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem

 



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