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short funny poem

fora do profundo e da obscuridade
da canção e do sonho para ido sempre
mas eu não posso lê-lo agora
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
eu tive um medo em minha vida
estes sejam
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
quando eu estive escutar, discreetly dumb
algum queixou-se ao mestre
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós são

 



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