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christmas poem

a escuridĂŁo rola para cima
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
os dias hypocritic
eu amo as configurações melodious velhas
sol e vento e batida do mar
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
não gire sua cabeça
antes do saint de bronze solemn
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
no recolhimento da escuridĂŁo e pedem
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
carrinho aqui por meu lado

 



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