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broken heart poem

temos nós nenhum shame?
gloom
nas manhãs nuvem-cinzentas
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
há três maneiras em que os homens fazem exame
eu espero-o
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro

 



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