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pastor appreciation poem

se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi
morbidamente piangendo
siete il mio compagno
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta così tanto oro
dio
di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno
è andato
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto

 



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