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death poetry

ainda treze anos
macio como a cama na terra
aqueles no superior dizem que o conhecem, terra -- são liars
última meia-noite
não permaneça não mais
nunca em toda minha vida
os poetas dizem
sob a lua da colheita
as verdades terríveis estes sejam
ao longo de um river-side
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
eu ganhei a raça

 



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