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thanksgiving poetry

quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
completamente dos rasgos
eu moldei o mundo
tem um espaço livre, loveliness vento-protegido
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
os corredores de mármore resounding longos
calma como que segundo verão
com o por do sol
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita

 



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