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death poetry

diz de épocas velhas boas
pouco parque que eu passo completamente
cão do gingham e o gato do calico
sol e vento e batida do mar
caído assim
deus
prazeres mid e palácios embora nós podemos vaguear
uma pena do aço
eu sei não onde
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
diga-me mais menos ou diga-me mais
ruídos que strive rasgar

 



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