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footprint poem

quegli occhi neri i una volta così elogiato
il giorno è fatto
esprimiamo le nostre passioni più basse
di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno
parla non bene
non giri la vostra testa
ciò è l'arsenale
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
ombre alate che scopano vicino
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte

 



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