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black poetry

ora mentre i miei labbri stanno vivendo
un gleam di oro il gloom in e gray
sentite la pioggia?
dite che lo amate
amavo una donna
in tutte le cose non parlate di
tutti quei tesori che si trovano
cantili ancora alla canzone cantati
come le aquile sul high alto
quando la notte va alla deriva lungo le vie della città

 



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