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angel poem

pela costa, pelo mar
eu estou morrendo
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
jogaram uma pedra, vocę jogaram uma pedra
eighty anos passaram, e mais
eu quero saber onde vocę vive
eu vi que vocę hunched e tiritando nas pedras
eu gosto d
eu năo posso dizę-lo agora
năo esteja irritado com mim
quando vocę vier hoje ŕ noite
fora do mar sparkling

 



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