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grandma poem

la notte scorsa la luna piena ha posto un panno del bianco
oscillato nella culla del profondo
con il tramonto
non appenda corona
senza dubbio mi ricordo di ancora
e pane del breaketh non di più
le verità terribili questi sono
risiedo alla montagna della tabella
appena come mie barrette su queste chiavi
alcuni dei hurts che avete curato

 



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