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suicide poetry

tutti si acquietano lungo il potomac
all'interno della mia mano tengo
ombre alate che scopano vicino
dite che lo amate
appena come mie barrette su queste chiavi
persino avrebbe suo scherzo
sono vecchio e cieco
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
malinconia, azzurro era
una parola di volo di qui e lĂ 
morbidamente piangendo

 



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