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broken heart poem

não gire sua cabeça
na terra silenciosa
pela ponte rude
os corredores de mármore resounding longos
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
têm você ouvido
não seja falso
o justo e stately empregada doméstica, cujos olhos
com os olhos meek, marrons
truely
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento

 



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