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teen poem

as canções velhas
têm você ouvido
quando eu olhei em seus olhos
não permaneça não mais
quem ama a chuva
escute
nenhuma rapina é mim de pensamentos pobres
levantado dos mortos
eu estou morrendo
apenas agora
antes do saint de bronze solemn
a escuridão rola para cima

 



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