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funny poem

ma non posso ora leggerlo
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
in un vecchio alloggiamento si è illuminato morbidamente
stuff della luna
ciò è la canzone della gioventù
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
andato prima di noi
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
ora che mi sono raffreddato a voi
sto morendo

 



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