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modern poetry

e meu nome é truthful
todos tragam os anos
antes do saint de bronze solemn
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
melancolia, azul era
é ido
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
com o por do sol
bonito
nós que estiveram
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio

 



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