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short poem

potremmo ma sapere
nei loro regimentals ragged
chi ama la pioggia
la gradisco
li ho detestati
ha scoppiato il vino feroce
non sia falso
quando il velare dagli occhi alzato
come come le stelle questo il bianco, facce nameless
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno
tutto l'mio amore per il mio dolce
all'alba, ha detto

 



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