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sad love poem

rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
amavo una donna
era una bellezza nei giorni
ma alas, sogni giusti
perchč sono le cose che non hanno morte
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
una foschia stava guidando giů
glooms delle viv-quercie
andato prima di noi
tre anni fa oggi
due file dei cavoli

 



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