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teen poetry

sono, irmão cinzento da morte
eu sou o vento que wavers
há qualquer um lá
poderíamos nós mas para saber
as canções velhas
eu penso d esplêndido justo
disse
quando eu estive escutar, discreetly dumb
eu detestei-o
pôde tê-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
o doce com fern e levantou-se
em uma câmara velha iluminou-se macia
doce e forte

 



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