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prose poetry

lasci il unsaid bello di parole
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
da solo
la notte scorsa la luna piena ha posto un panno del bianco
ottanta anni hanno passato e piů
malinconia, azzurro era
ho visto le stelle piů fiere
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta cosě tanto oro
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono

 



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