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child poetry

è venuto prenderlo dalla mano
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
tranquillamente, con il reverance, nel awe
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
ho visto le stelle più fiere
basamento qui dal mio lato
all'interno della mia mano tengo
mille anni silenziosi fa
alcuni giorni più ventosi
i poets dicono a
faccio la mia protezione, ma nessuno sa
scattando in su, cadendo

 



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