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father poem

meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
escute
sobre o rio beckon a mim
sono, irmão cinzento da morte
na terra silenciosa
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
esplêndido e terrível seu amor
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
os prayers brancos pequenos

 



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