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short love poem

ci sono guadagni per tutte le nostre perdite
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
l'alba era verde mela
con gli occhi meek e marroni
come candela bianca
chi chiamerà il vento
non posso ritenere sempre il suo greatness
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
così perso
ciò è la nave della perla

 



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