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teen poems

fala não bem
assim perdido
calma como que segundo verão
como como as estrelas é este o branco, as caras nameless
era o outono do ano
eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem
três anos há hoje
veja, eles retornam
acima dos prados ricos com milho
havia três no prado pelo ribeiro
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless
rosas e ouro
deixe-me ser sad

 



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