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suicide poetry

o ar é como uma borboleta
vivido pelo river-side
fora do mar sparkling
havia um momento em anos anteriores
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
tem por muito tempo a luz solar do verão brilhada
última noite a lua cheia colocou um pano do branco
eu sou velho e cego
diga-me não
não permaneça não mais

 



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