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romantic poetry

eu encho este copo
eu estive
simplesmente falando
a terra mantem algum ir da vibraçăo
o sol pisou para baixo de seu throne dourado
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós săo
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
algum queixou-se ao mestre
alguns dias mais ventosos

 



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