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kid poem

quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro t
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre
la signora, il vostro cuore si girata verso polvere
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
lasci il unsaid bello di parole
poco cancello stato raggiunto in fine
circa ha sporto querela al padrone
a volte mi domando se realmente allineare
se esso

 



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