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poem for dad

sono vecchio e cieco
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
quanto selvaggio, come strega-come bizzarro che la vita dovrebbe essere
sopra il fiume beckon a me
il prato stava strisciando
uomo freddo severo
i nostri momenti piacevoli volano
un pensiero dolce solenne
ha scoppiato il vino feroce
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly
cara moglie
non giri la vostra testa

 



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