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writing poetry

veda, rinviano
rose ed oro
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
il giorno è fatto
per ero un consigliere gaunt e grave
buona donna
il mio amore allineare dal suo cuscino è aumentato
notte mysterious
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta così tanto oro
sto morendo
dal ponticello rude
portimi la canzone morbida
ho visto la prima pera

 



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