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short friendship poem

acima dos prados ricos com milho
macia weeping
da canção e do sonho para ido sempre
última noite a lua cheia colocou um pano do branco
não seja falso
esta é a canção da juventude
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido
um com você
com os olhos meek, marrons
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
eu sou velho e cego
eu não posso dizê-lo agora

 



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