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poem for dad

caído assim
têm você não ouvido
porque então, a obrigação nós vê?
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
qual se mantem
em uma câmara velha iluminou-se macia
faça exame de meus bracelets

 



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