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sad poem

quando un atto č fatto per la libertŕ
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
come come le stelle č questo il bianco, facce nameless
non ci č moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso
come le aquile sul high alto
che cosa io devono voi
travails della terra
short e dolce ed abbiamo arrivato alla fine di esso
č spesso non cosě?
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta cosě tanto oro

 



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