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suicide poem

não pendure nenhuma grinalda
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido
não seja falso
eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
envolva a terra no tempo cloudy
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
uma tempestade está montando na maré
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless
teria mesmo seu gracejo
a escuridão

 



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