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poetry

sentite la pioggia?
fiori dei bambini
poco parco che attraverso
prima del san bronze solenne
babylon -- dove vado sognare
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
lasci una conservazione di gioia voi
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly
tempesta
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
nel porto di nuovo York
uno sguardo è ma un raggio
li ho fatti un'offerta tutto l'addio

 



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