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sorry poem

o mestre de destinies humanos é mim
nós colocamos
homem frio stern
acima dos prados ricos com milho
apenas agora
a neve sussurra sobre mim
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
eu estive pelo casement aberto
eu detestei-o
se ele
uplifting, como o vento fundiu
flores dos bebês

 



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