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poem for dad

eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
eu sei não onde
dentro desta sepultura humilde um conqueror encontra-se
este é o navio da pérola
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
eu não posso dizê-lo agora

 



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