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african american poetry

una volta questo tappeto erboso molle
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
il fratello, sono fuoco
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta così tanto oro
ci è un'ora di riposo pacifico
tengo il vostro cuore
faccio la mia protezione, ma nessuno sa
non si addolori che finito
una penna di acciaio
fate sentirsi
ci sono guadagni per tutte le nostre perdite

 



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