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poetry poem

a escuridão
sobre os rooftops compita as sombras das nuvens
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
nobility da morte outra vez
ame-me no último, ou se você não
há qualquer um lá
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
um pensamento doce solemn
eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
pôde tê-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred
eu estive
com os olhos meek, marrons

 



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