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poetry poem

nossos momentos agradáveis voam
temos nós nenhum shame?
acima de e para baixo vai
fraco-é voada a canção
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
esta bacia de prata antiga de meus
eu penso d esplêndido justo
duas fileiras dos repolhos
nunca em toda minha vida
eu amo as configurações melodious velhas
travails da terra

 



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