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mom poem

se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
ho visto le stelle piĂą fiere
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
possono comunicare di amore in un cottage
ora mentre i miei labbri stanno vivendo
quando libertĂ  dalla sua altezza della montagna
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
migliori che il granito
il dolce con il fern ed è aumentato
disprezzo i miei amici piĂą di voi
mi chiedono dove sono stato
lasci una conservazione di gioia voi

 



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