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modern poetry

eu espero-o
é ido
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
eu ouvi-os na noite
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
eighty anos passaram, e mais
os dias endeared a cada MUSE
era uma beleza nos dias
composto do loveliness sozinho
melancolia, azul era
última meia-noite
o que era ele os motores ditos

 



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