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memorial poem

minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
sadly falando
eu estive pelo casement aberto
nobility da morte outra vez
minha mãe ensinou-me que cada noite
musing, entre o por do sol e a obscuridade
pôde tê-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
nós que estiveram
quando eu era um menino na faculdade

 



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