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sad death poem

eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem
sob a lua da colheita
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
teria mesmo seu gracejo
o doce com fern e levantou-se
era não para esse cheiro singular
alguns dos hurts que você se curou
nobility da morte outra vez
cante-o outra vez à canção cantado
embora repine do amor, e chafe da razão
eu estive pelo casement aberto

 



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