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writing poetry

ho guardato sul cielo glorious
ho entrato nel deserto perché la mia anima è athirst
desolato e solo
faccia i ragazzi e le ragazze ancora vanno
là dalla finestra nella vecchia casa
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre
tranquillamente, con il reverance, nel awe
quando libertà dalla sua altezza della montagna
non eravamo molti
disprezzo i miei amici più di voi
notte mysterious
il fratello, sono fuoco

 



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