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funeral poem

olhe para fora em cima das estrelas, meu amor
apenas agora
os dias hypocritic
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
em todas as coisas não faladas de
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
na terra silenciosa
melancolia, azul era
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
em seus regimentals ásperos

 



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