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teacher poem

eu não pray para a paz
que possibilidade spiteful rouba unawares
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
escuro-eyed
esteja em mim como os modos eternal
esse ano
eighty anos passaram, e mais
a criança que jogou afastado a folha após a folha
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
bonito

 



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