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funeral poem

eu gosto d
jogaram uma pedra, você jogaram uma pedra
os dias endeared a cada MUSE
eu detestei-o
é frequentemente não assim?
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
acima dos prados ricos com milho
para prestar atenção o dia inteiro à onda azul ondular e quebrar
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua

 



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