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inspirational poem

sotto la luna della raccolta
perchč allora, il mosto noi vede?
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta cosě tanto oro
li ho detestati
ho visto la prima pera
desolato e solo
in corridoi di sonno avete vagato vicino
l'agonia di avere troppa alimentazione
amavo una donna
le tonalitŕ della notte stavano cadendo velocemente
vi ricordate di
dio

 



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