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father poem

vecchio vino da bere
nel porto di nuovo York
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
con di anima dei labbri colore rosso e cuore della pietra
uno per uno, come va da un albero
cammino giů i percorsi del giardino
dai nostri posti nascosti
quindi non posso
lungamente fa la luce solare di estate lucidare
dio
burly, humble-ape fare un pisolino

 



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