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teen love poem

il mio figlio č guasto e sono ciechi andanti
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
č andato
passato inesorabile di thou
ha scoppiato il vino feroce
tutti quei tesori che si trovano
č aumentato e l'ambra era il tramonto sul fiume
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si č sviluppata
in tutte le cose non parlate di
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi

 



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