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thanksgiving poem

quando eu era quebrou em Londres
qual se mantem
através do peito aching da terra larga
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós são
com vermelho do sangue dos bordos e coração da pedra

 



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