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suicide poem

uma vez este turf macio
deus
eu vi que você hunched e tiritando nas pedras
como um homem despido mim vai
entre as montanhas eu vagueei
as montanhas são povos silenciosos
travails da terra
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
quando eu retornei no por do sol
vivido pelo river-side
há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas
você recorda
as verdades terríveis estes sejam

 



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