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sympathy poem

alcuni dei hurts che avete curato
se esso
la festività reale è stata fatta
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
questi cuori sono stati tessuti delle gioie umane e cure
eliminazione, lottante vainly
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro

 



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