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suicide poem

penso spesso alla città bella
il giorno è fatto
musing, fra il tramonto e l'oscurità
sono vecchio e cieco
sono andato su e giù le vie
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
veda lo sperimentale
in settembre
quegli occhi neri i una volta così elogiato
hanno gettato una pietra, voi hanno gettato una pietra
conosco che cosa state andando dire

 



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