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poem for dad

burly, humble-ape fare un pisolino
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno
ed ancora hanno camminato sopra
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi
nella terra silenziosa
da me indegno e sconosciuto
e pane del breaketh non di piů
perchč cosě triste mio bello?
ho guardato sul cielo glorious

 



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