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poetry archive

sono vecchio e cieco
ancora tredici anni
nei numeri mournful
così caduto
quegli occhi neri i una volta così elogiato
indietro, giri indietro
oscillato nella culla del profondo
sono una donna
non ci è fuga dal fiume
era molte e molto un anno fa
dove io trovili
disprezzo i miei amici più di voi
felicità
ma non posso ora leggerlo

 



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