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family poem

deixe-me ser sad
completamente dos rasgos
como deva mim ajude à direita ao mundo que está indo erradamente
eu não queimo nenhum incense
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
acima dos prados ricos com milho
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
a noite era preta e drear

 



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