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cowboy poetry

minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
e pão do breaketh mais
eu estou no tempo cinzento frio
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
ruídos que strive rasgar
tem um espaço livre, loveliness vento-protegido
eu estou morrendo
acima dos prados ricos com milho
última meia-noite
eu ouvi-os na noite

 



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