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break up poem

a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
eu faço minha saia, mas ninguém sabe
mas eu não posso lê-lo agora
um pássaro cantou
em todas as coisas não faladas de
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
jogaram uma pedra, você jogaram uma pedra
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha

 



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