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friendship poetry

alla mezzanotte
era un oysterman giovane alto
dai nostri posti nascosti
una foschia stava guidando giù
vivo dalla riva del fiume
ora per una lotta attiva e cheerful
poco cancello è stato raggiunto in fine
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
dal profondo e l'oscurità
come come le stelle è questo il bianco, facce nameless

 



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