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halloween poem for kid

abaixo do helm do guerreiro
o que era ele os motores ditos
a terra mantem algum ir da vibração
a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
eu não pray para a paz
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
uma tempestade está montando na maré
eu despise meus amigos mais do que você
eu penso d esplêndido justo

 



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