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sad poetry

esta bacia de prata antiga de meus
nenhuma rapina é mim de pensamentos pobres
tudo dentro e tudo sem mim
cão do gingham e o gato do calico
os navios estão encontrando-se na baía
em setembro
os dias hypocritic
mas eu não posso lê-lo agora
pensamentos através de minha cabeça
sob a lua da colheita
deixe-nos plantar
renove a visão do prazer
e como poderia você sonho da reunião

 



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