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christmas poems

la sua faccia giusta e liscia e fine
era l'autunno dell'anno
sto morendo
con gli occhi meek e marroni
sono vecchio e cieco
ho visto che il dio voi lo dubita?
lungo le serie
quando ero si rotto a Londra
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
volont glimmer sul mare?
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
andato
vado il mio senso complacently

 



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