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poetry poem

uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
não gire sua cabeça
alguns dos hurts que você se curou
o corpo pode confinar
travails da terra
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente
material da lua
sobre o rio beckon a mim
envolva a terra no tempo cloudy
porque assim sad meu encantador?
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
você está desobstruído

 



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