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epic poetry

baixo! ' tis um a noite do gala
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
eu penso d esplêndido justo
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
laranjas arrancando nubian azul-pretas
têm você não ouvido
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
eu estive
fora de mim unworthy e desconhecido
uma vez este turf macio
uma milha atrás
em setembro

 



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