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child poem

quando eu era quebrou em Londres
olhar além
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar
pela costa, pelo mar
deixe-me ser sad
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
eu agito meu cabelo no vento da manhã
o ar é como uma borboleta
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
há um país completamente do vinho
trançado e tecido
e ainda andaram sobre
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless

 



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