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friend poem

il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio
quando libertĂ  dalla sua altezza della montagna
lascilo muoversi lentamente tramite la via
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
non ci è moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
ha detto
ombre alate che scopano vicino
se avessi saputo lo stretto una prigione è amore

 



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