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son poem

muito bem, você liberais
tudo dentro e tudo sem mim
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
deixe-nos expressar nossas paixões mais baixas
o dia é feito
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
do assoalho ao teto
rosas e ouro
o prado estava rastejando

 



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