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grandmother poem

o alvorecer era verde maçã
dentro desta sepultura humilde um conqueror encontra-se
o que nós fará agora
ao longo de um river-side
splendor doce
bonito
sono, irmão cinzento da morte
um olhar é mas um raio
glooms dos viv-carvalhos
burly, humble-abelha aplanar
no recolhimento da escuridão e pedem
nós não éramos muitos
mas eu não posso lê-lo agora

 



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