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suicide poetry

a che cosa una donna la paragonerà cara
sono il vento che esita
forse è materia che avete morto
una parola di volo di qui e là
è allineare che dite che i dii sono più uso a voi che i fairies
mistero più scuro e più sconosciuto
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
ho fatto una pausa la stoffa per tendine aperta
ma alas, sogni giusti
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane

 



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