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kid poem

dal ponticello rude
il prato stava strisciando
quando ero un ragazzo all'università
burly, humble-ape fare un pisolino
della l'oscurità e pace nel mia base finale
tempesta
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
era l'autunno dell'anno
il fratello, sono fuoco
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte

 



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