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friend poetry

rode-me para baixo pelo prado
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós são
a luz retirada
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
nobility da morte outra vez
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
há um que esse i amou uma vez assim muito
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
você está desobstruído
há qualquer um lá
o que nós fará agora
se eu souber o narrow uma prisão é amor

 



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