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footprint poem

penso spesso alla città bella
la pioggia finito e l'aria brillante
la nerezza
ascolti il mare suonante
che cosa noi ora farà
come esso
guardi indietro con gli occhi longing e sappia che seguirò
ci è uno che quella i amava una volta così tanto
dal ponticello rude
il mio figlio è guasto e sono ciechi andanti

 



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