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thanksgiving poem

la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
i corridoi di marmo resounding lunghi
quando la notte va alla deriva lungo le vie della cittĂ 
ma alas, sogni giusti
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
ha detto
dal ponticello rude
perchè facciali sempre basamento là che rabbrividisce
limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
chi ama la pioggia
amico, di cui il sorriso è venuto essere

 



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