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child poetry

para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
poderíamos nós mas para saber
seu cabelo bonito
da canção e do sonho para ido sempre
ao longo de um river-side
eu vou minha maneira complacently
agite
deixe o unsaid encantador das palavras
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão

 



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