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sorry poem

algum queixou-se ao mestre
ao longo dos bancos
ao lado de um campo stricken
fora do mar sparkling
mulher boa
paredes e enorme elevados
macia weeping
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
ruídos que strive rasgar
e meu nome é truthful
e como poderia vocę sonho da reuniăo
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma măo

 



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