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sympathy poem

questi sono
non brucio incenso
li ho sentiti nella notte
glass-blower di tempo
quando il vento funziona contro di noi nell'oscuritŕ
il singolo pugno serrato alzato e ready
gaily attraverso i campi abbiamo ballato
andato prima di noi
poco parco che attraverso
mai in tutta la mia vita
penso spesso alla cittŕ bella
e mentre abbiamo camminato l'erba debolmente č stata mescolata

 



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