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baby poem

minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
eu sou o vento que wavers
como um homem despido mim vai
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
antes do saint de bronze solemn
um history muito notável isto é
e com o pássaro humming
para então without
era uma oysterman novo alto
irmão, eu sou fogo
não permaneça não mais
abaixo do helm do guerreiro

 



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