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kid poem

deixe-nos expressar nossas paixões mais baixas
não esteja irritado com mim
esta bacia de prata antiga de meus
levantado dos mortos
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
muito bem, você liberais
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim
do sol nem das estrelas
o que mim lhe devem
tem um espaço livre, loveliness vento-protegido
na meia-noite
conseqüentemente eu não posso
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous

 



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