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fall poetry

talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
eu vi a primeira pera
porque assim sad meu encantador?
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
veja o tentative
eu ganhei a raça
o amor foi cantado mil maneiras
em números mournful
em seus regimentals ásperos

 



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