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graduation poem

uma tempestade está montando na maré
são você acordado?
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
não seja falso
os poetas dizem
esteja em mim como os modos eternal
é verdadeiro que você diz que os deuses lhe são mais uso do que fairies
em setembro
desolado e solitário
temos nós nenhum shame?
os arcos da ponte vermelha
estourou o vinho feroz
nossos momentos agradáveis voam

 



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