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funeral poem

mondo che cambia sotto la mia mano
ombre alate che scopano vicino
poco cancello è stato raggiunto in fine
là dalla finestra nella vecchia casa
l'odore del è aumentato così falso, le spine così allineare
e con l'uccello di ronzio
del sole né stelle
quindi non posso
il lampo ha esposto a flash ed ha alzato

 



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