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son poem

il sole č in su
uno per uno, come va da un albero
contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero
che probabilitŕ spiteful ruba i unawares
tutti dentro e tutti senza di me
portimi la canzone morbida
ma alas, sogni giusti
abbiamo nessuno shame?
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
glooms delle viv-quercie
amico, di cui il sorriso č venuto essere
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello

 



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