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sad poem

quando eu retornei no por do sol
o alvorecer era verde maçã
na meia-noite
esta bacia de prata antiga de meus
deixe-nos expressar nossas paixões mais baixas
até sua janela da câmara
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré
a criança que jogou afastado a folha após a folha
uma milha atrás
deus
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
o mestre de destinies humanos Ă© mim

 



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