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friend poetry

vecchio vino da bere
amilo in fine, o se non
mentre mi sono levato in piedi ascoltare, discreetly dumb
ero un goddess ere il marmo lo ha trovato
sono nell'amore con gli alti posti far-seeing
per allora senza
nel porto di nuovo York
facce belle e tragical
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente
uno sguardo è ma un raggio
provato nel glimmer nei vostri occhi
nei numeri mournful

 



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