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pastor appreciation poem

il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
morbido come la base nella terra
l'agonia di avere troppa alimentazione
improvvisamente, dai sensi scuri e frondosi
forse è materia che avete morto
andato prima di noi
in sua tenda custodita
il padrone dei destini umani sono io
un uccello ha cantato
da solo
deve andare indietro, ha detto
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
era un oysterman giovane alto

 



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