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christian poetry

penso spesso alla città bella
la mia anima va placcata nelle cose gorgeous
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
quell'anno
sotto un albero di diffusione della castagna
non sia arrabbiato con me
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
impaurito nient'altro, dico
non ci è moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso
addolorisi non per l'invisibile

 



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