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sorry poem

um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
ainda treze anos
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso
ame-me no último, ou se você não
paredes e enorme elevados
a algum os deuses gordos
como uma vela branca
a lua levantando-se escondeu as estrelas
quando eu olhei em seus olhos
porque assim sad meu encantador?
qual se mantem

 



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