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life poem

passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
lá pela janela na casa velha
este é o navio da pérola
ame-me no último, ou se você não
tempestade
havia um strangeness em seus bordos
uma tempestade está montando na maré
a escuridão rola para cima
você recorda
havia três no prado pelo ribeiro
as canções velhas
eu sou o vento que wavers
o ar é como uma borboleta

 



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