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life poetry

ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
uno con voi
sopra loro tutte, osservando giù
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
ho visto con gli occhi aperti
la mia anima va placcata nelle cose gorgeous
debole-è traversata la canzone
quelli sul superiore dicono che li conoscono, terra -- sono liars

 



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