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friend poem

f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
a terra mantem algum ir da vibração
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
por muito tempo há, no moonlight novo
em números mournful
as canções velhas
o prado estava rastejando
para poder ver cada lado de cada pergunta
estes sejam
paredes e enorme elevados
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
minha mãe ensinou-me que cada noite
quando você vier hoje à noite

 



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