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mother daughter poem

não pendure nenhuma grinalda
eu sei não onde
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
a o que uma mulher a comparará beloved
na meia-noite
até sua janela da câmara
um pensamento doce solemn
as canções velhas
travails da terra
eu fui acima e trago as ruas
alguns dos hurts que você se curou
era não para esse cheiro singular

 



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