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christian poetry

as verdades terríveis estes sejam
raça elevado-carregada
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
nós que estiveram
eu encho este copo
o que nós fará agora
não esteja irritado com mim
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro

 



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