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sorry poem

amilo in fine, o se non
improvvisamente, dai sensi scuri e frondosi
li prevedo
non si addolori che finito
quando ho rinviato al tramonto
era una bellezza nei giorni
quando libertŕ dalla sua altezza della montagna
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
in corridoi di sonno avete vagato vicino
e pane del breaketh non di piů

 



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