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death poetry

lasci il unsaid bello di parole
forse è materia che avete morto
rose ed oro
non prego per pace
passato inesorabile di thou
figlie di tempo
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si è sviluppata
glooms delle viv-quercie
possono comunicare di amore in un cottage
devo dire buona notte
lungo una riva del fiume
quanto selvaggio, come strega-come bizzarro che la vita dovrebbe essere

 



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