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son poem

era uma beleza nos dias
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
ido antes de nós
arched a inundação
deixe um sustento da alegria você
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
eu sou fevered
eu nunca soube que a terra teve assim muito ouro
é frequentemente não assim?
alguns dos hurts que você se curou

 



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