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free love poem

a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
eu verei uma estrela hoje à noite
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
quando liberdade de sua altura da montanha
o ar é como uma borboleta
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
o doce com fern e levantou-se
em números mournful
em e sobre
quando eu era um menino na faculdade

 



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