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mother poem

sono il vento che esita
se avessi saputo lo stretto una prigione è amore
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
vecchio vino da bere
che cosa noi ora farà
quando venite stasera
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
e con l'uccello di ronzio
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
il prato stava strisciando
una storia molto notevole questo è
il più triste dell'anno
dicami
il dolce con il fern ed è aumentato

 



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