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inspirational poem

um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
a escuridão rola para cima
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
no alvorecer, disse
o sol está acima
em seu vôo
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido
havia três no prado pelo ribeiro
muito bem, você liberais
quem estará nomeando o vento
eu gosto d
melancolia, azul era
um history muito notável isto é

 



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