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family poetry

pouca porta foi alcançada no último
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
homem frio stern
na meia-noite
nós não éramos muitos
em seu vôo
do assoalho ao teto
agora que eu lhe esfriei
não esteja irritado com mim
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
e pão do breaketh mais

 



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