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break up poem

siete il mio compagno
sto morendo
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
chi chiamer il vento
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
met di piaceri e palazzi bench possiamo vagare
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi
tempesta
basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
quando ero un ragazzo all'universit
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
nei numeri mournful

 



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