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mother daughter poem

quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
se eu for muito certo
o que mim lhe devem
nós não éramos muitos
a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
eu estou morrendo
traga-me a canção macia
se eu souber o narrow uma prisão é amor
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama

 



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