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funny poetry

o que era ele os motores ditos
eu estou morrendo
abaixo do helm do guerreiro
para prestar atenção o dia inteiro à onda azul ondular e quebrar
temos nós nenhum shame?
porque assim sad meu encantador?
sobre o rio beckon a mim
através do peito aching da terra larga
cidade que não é uma cidade
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
era uma beleza nos dias
quem ama a chuva

 



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