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child poem

la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
dolce e forte
sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro tè
mi sono levato in piedi
la luce ritirata
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri
siete bei e sbiaditi
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
come io aiuti alla destra il mondo che sta andando male
il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio
ci è uno che quella i amava una volta così tanto

 



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