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death poem

o mais saddest do ano
quando o véu dos olhos for levantado
jogaram uma pedra, você jogaram uma pedra
caras bonitas, tragical
agora para uma luta viva e cheerful
eu sei não onde
sob a lua da colheita
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
através do peito aching da terra larga
uplifting, como o vento fundiu
lá pela janela na casa velha

 



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