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sad poetry

tristemente parlando
se fossi molto sicuro
sono il vento che esita
quegli occhi neri i una volta cosě elogiato
siete bei e sbiaditi
non posso ora dirvi
morbido come la base nella terra
come un uomo nudo io va
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
il sole č in su
burly, humble-ape fare un pisolino
č ci qualcuno lŕ
il singolo pugno serrato alzato e ready

 



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