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grandma poem

e ainda andaram sobre
eu vi-o uma vez antes
a o que uma mulher a comparará beloved
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
e como poderia você sonho da reunião
você ouve a chuva?
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
macia weeping
bonito
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma

 



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