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elements of poetry

minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
quando o véu dos olhos for levantado
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
havia três no prado pelo ribeiro
eu sobre-tinha preparado o evento
mas eu não posso lê-lo agora
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você

 



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