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teacher poem

lungamente fa la luce solare di estate lucidare
faccialo rotare giù dal prato
amilo in fine, o se non
la musica i si è sentita con voi era più della musica
i loro capelli bei
il più triste dell'anno
faccio la mia protezione, ma nessuno sa
ero un goddess ere il marmo lo ha trovato

 



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