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thanksgiving poem

ci situiamo
li ho detestati
ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
potremmo ma sapere
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
come io aiuti alla destra il mondo che sta andando male
circa ha sporto querela al padrone
glooms delle viv-quercie
le montagne sono gente silenziosa
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi

 



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