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teen poetry

minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
agite
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
os céus que eram ashen e sober
este é o navio da pérola
o relâmpago piscou, e levantou
eu sou o vento que wavers
eu encho este copo
alguns dias mais ventosos
completamente dos rasgos
deixe o unsaid encantador das palavras
é verdadeiro que você diz que os deuses lhe são mais uso do que fairies

 



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