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acrostic poem

provato nel glimmer nei vostri occhi
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
quell'anno
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
l'alba era verde mela
sono stancare di essere amaro e stancare di essere saggio
mi domando dove vivete
sono una donna
dai prati ricchi con cereale

 



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