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funny poetry

perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
per verità, per amore
sonno, fratello grigio della morte
il prato stava strisciando
fate non sentirsi
la signora, il vostro cuore si è girata verso polvere
siete il mio compagno
impaurito nient'altro, dico

 



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