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life poetry

alcuni dei hurts che avete curato
un miglio dietro
all'alba, ha detto
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
come livellare cade
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
abbiamo nessuno shame?
la musica i si č sentita con voi era piů della musica
penso spesso alla cittŕ bella
glooms delle viv-quercie

 



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