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autumn poetry

nenhuma rapina é mim de pensamentos pobres
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade
caído assim
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido
traga-me a canção macia
tiveram e i mas encontrado com
com vermelho do sangue dos bordos e coração da pedra

 



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