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family poetry

fino alla sua finestra dell'alloggiamento
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
impaurito nient'altro, dico
ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
se avessi saputo lo stretto una prigione è amore
ancora il suo gray oscilla la torretta sopra il mare
chi è il corridore nei cieli
è spesso non così?
una foschia stava guidando giù
tengo il vostro cuore

 



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