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teenage love poem

il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
con gli occhi meek e marroni
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
la notte scorsa la luna piena ha posto un panno del bianco
il sole ha fatto un passo giů dal suo throne dorato
i poets dicono a
sono il vento che esita
senza sosta
fiori dei bambini
le ombre pongono lungo broadway

 



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