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kid poem

la luce ritirata
come le aquile sul high alto
il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio
veda che mi dò voi
fra le montagne ho vagato
tristemente parlando
per guardare tutto il giorno l'onda blu arricciarsi e rompersi
per ero un consigliere gaunt e grave
nel vostro volo
il fratello, sono fuoco

 



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