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romantic poetry

l'aria piena l'alba del e la molla
e mentre abbiamo camminato l'erba debolmente stata mescolata
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si sviluppata
ho vinto la corsa
una penna di acciaio
ora per una lotta attiva e cheerful
oscillato nella culla del profondo
quindi non posso
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
era l'autunno dell'anno
del sole n stelle
il giorno fatto
ho avuto un timore nella mia vita
forse

 



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