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KONDER: Sonhos

Com calma
Quase com gosto
Trago na alma
No rosto
Os traços
Meio idiotas
De cansaços
E derrotas.

Com jeito
Quase com graça
Trago no peito
Na raça
Uns sonhos
Que já me fiz
Risonhos
E pueris.

(Leandro Konder, Sonhos)

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