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writing poetry

veja, eles retornam
rosas e ouro
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
o dia é feito
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
mulher boa
meu amor verdadeiro de seu descanso levantou-se
noite misteriosa
eu nunca soube que a terra teve assim muito ouro
eu estou morrendo
pela ponte rude
traga-me a canção macia
eu vi a primeira pera

 



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