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baby poem

embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas
simplicity
calma como que segundo verão
última meia-noite
eu não pray para a paz
deve ir para trás, disse
é frequentemente não assim?
diga-me não
eu estou morrendo
felicidade
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
sono, irmão cinzento da morte
não do mundo largo do todo

 



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