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teen poems

basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
senza dubbio mi ricordo di ancora
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
in possa
la terra mantiene certo andare di vibrazione
dicami piĂą di meno o dicami di piĂą
l'odore del è aumentato così falso, le spine così allineare
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
malinconia, azzurro era
i poets dicono a
tramite il seno facente male della vasta terra
ma alas, sogni giusti

 



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