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sad poetry

sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro t
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi
le vecchie canzoni
per potere vedere ogni lato di ogni domanda
come come le stelle questo il bianco, facce nameless
sto morendo
quanto selvaggio, come strega-come bizzarro che la vita dovrebbe essere
possono comunicare di amore in un cottage
in settembre
il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio

 



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