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mom poem

fate non sentirsi
quelli sul superiore dicono che li conoscono, terra -- sono liars
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
la musica i si è sentita con voi era più della musica
conosco non dove
dicami più di meno o dicami di più
sotto la luna della raccolta
qui si trova una signora la più bella
siete svegli?
il mio figlio è guasto e sono ciechi andanti
come come le stelle è questo il bianco, facce nameless

 



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