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sad poem

há qualquer um lá
eu quero saber ŕs vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
um pęssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
eu estou no tempo cinzento frio
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhă
eu sou velho e cego
quando eu era quebrou em Londres
eu ouvi-os na noite
alguns dos hurts que vocę se curou
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas

 



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