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thanksgiving poetry

porque
tテェm vocテェ ouvido
eu vi a primeira pera
embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas
macio como a cama na terra
no porto de york novo
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sテ。bio
escute
nテ」o hテ。 nenhum escape pelo rio
vocテェ pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braテァos em vocテェ
em seu vテエo

 



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