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sorry poem

a festa real foi feita
antes do saint de bronze solemn
eu gosto d
uma vez este turf macio
e ainda andaram sobre
para poder ver cada lado de cada pergunta
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
há um país completamente do vinho
acima do sul na ruptura do dia
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
como como as estrelas é este o branco, as caras nameless
as estrelas caíram do heaven

 



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