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sorry poem

é ido
sentar-se em seu balancim que espera seu chá
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
a neve sussurra sobre mim
raça elevado-carregada
trançado e tecido
o ar é como uma borboleta
não esteja irritado com mim
para trás, gire para trás
podem falar do amor em uma casa de campo
e pão do breaketh mais
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
traga-me a canção macia

 



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