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father poem

vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless
levantado dos mortos
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
sobre o rio beckon a mim
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
última noite a lua cheia colocou um pano do branco
o céu
é frequentemente não assim?
eu moldei o mundo
diga-me não

 



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