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acrostic poem

cosě caduto
il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio
faccialo rotare giů dal prato
tutti quei tesori che si trovano
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
i nostri momenti piacevoli volano
senza sosta
tutti si acquietano lungo il potomac
ora mentre i miei labbri stanno vivendo
ora che mi sono raffreddato a voi

 



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