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poem for dad

vinho velho a beber
cante-o outra vez à canção cantado
eu não queimo nenhum incense
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
uma milha atrás
o relâmpago piscou, e levantou
deixe-nos expressar nossas paixões mais baixas
antes do saint de bronze solemn
como como as estrelas é este o branco, as caras nameless
eu estive

 



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