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narrative poetry

eu estive
todo meu amor para meu doce
um olhar é mas um raio
pela ponte rude
bonito
eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness
ao lado de um campo stricken
são você acordado?
irmão, eu sou fogo
minha mãe ensinou-me que cada noite
quando você vier hoje à noite
esse companheiro estranho veio em baralhar os pés

 



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