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def poetry

minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
última meia-noite
uma milha atrás
se ele
veja, desta moeda falsa dele
não permaneça não mais
uplifting, como o vento fundiu
eu sou velho e cego
alguns dias mais ventosos
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela

 



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