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poem for pastors

nunca em toda minha vida
a festa real foi feita
o que mim lhe devem
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
alguns dos hurts que vocę se curou
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
eu estou no amor com lugares far-seeing elevados
o amor foi cantado mil maneiras
eu quero saber onde vocę vive
as sombras colocam ao longo de broadway
e nse
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
ainda treze anos
a noite era preta e drear

 



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