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death poem

o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
em setembro
o mistério o mais escuro, o mais estranho
não se aflija que sobre
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
as verdades terríveis estes sejam
acima de e para baixo vai
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
eu vi com olhos abertos
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
aflija-se não para o invisível

 



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