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grandmother poem

como uma vela branca
quando, cheio do amor morno e ansioso
velas que toppling lateralmente em umas latas do tomate
eu despise meus amigos mais do que você
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré
eu penso d esplêndido justo
eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem
algum queixou-se ao mestre
a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante
mas alas, sonhos justos

 



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