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writing poetry

eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
eu vi com olhos abertos
eu tive um sonho e eu acordei com ele
do assoalho ao teto
sobre os rooftops compita as sombras das nuvens
veja, desta moeda falsa dele
um history muito notável isto é
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
os poetas dizem
com os olhos meek, marrons
em sua barraca guardada

 



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