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love poetry

não do mundo largo do todo
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
escute
os dias hypocritic
uma tempestade está montando na maré
travails da terra
como um homem despido mim vai
eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness
esteja em mim como os modos eternal
flores dos bebês
aqueles no superior dizem que o conhecem, terra -- são liars
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas

 



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