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thanksgiving poetry

uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
cai aqui nenhuma luz
embora repine do amor, e chafe da razão
eu arremessei minha alma ao ar como um vôo do falcão
por muito tempo há, no moonlight novo
ame-me no último, ou se você não

 



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