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suicide poem

eu estive
minha măe ensinou-me que cada noite
a noite era preta e drear
o sol pisou para baixo de seu throne dourado
e păo do breaketh mais
entre as montanhas eu vagueei
quietamente, com reverance, no awe
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
como deva mim ajude ŕ direita ao mundo que está indo erradamente

 



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