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funeral poem

para trás, gire para trás
eu detestei-o
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
o dia é feito
veja, desta moeda falsa dele
o sol pisou para baixo de seu throne dourado
assim perdido
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
de repente, fora das maneiras escuras e frondosas

 



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