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short funny poem

o prado estava rastejando
teria mesmo seu gracejo
sombras voadas que varrem perto
a escuridão
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
carrinho aqui por meu lado
quando eu olhei em seus olhos
eu quero saber onde você vive
para trás, gire para trás
fora do profundo e da obscuridade
era não para esse cheiro singular

 



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