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sister poem

una penna di acciaio
il prato stava strisciando
dal profondo e l'oscuritŕ
vi ricordate di
la notte č scura ed i venti di inverno
non ci č moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso
il giorno č fatto
perchč cosě triste mio bello?
ho detto, io ho chiuso il mio cuore
e pane del breaketh non di piů

 



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