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poem for dad

uma milha atrás
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
eu sou o vento que wavers
para poder ver cada lado de cada pergunta
eu moldei o mundo
pôde tê-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
no alvorecer, disse
nobility da morte outra vez
diga-me não
o ar é como uma borboleta
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave

 



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