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short poem

perguntam-me onde eu estive
como uma vela branca
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
arched a inundação
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha
mas alas, sonhos justos
na esfera
como como as estrelas é este o branco, as caras nameless

 



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