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free love poem

se ele
homem frio stern
uma tempestade está montando na maré
conseqüentemente eu năo posso
acima do sul na ruptura do dia
ainda seu cinza balança a torre acima do mar
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
mulher boa
perguntam-me onde eu estive
os céus que eram ashen e sober
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir

 



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