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friend poetry

macia weeping
eu arremessei minha alma ao ar como um vôo do falcão
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
travails da terra
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
no recolhimento da escuridão e pedem
teria mesmo seu gracejo
macia agora a luz do dia
noite misteriosa
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
para vir assim logo a isto imaginou a obscuridade

 



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