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best friend poem

perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
quell'anno
là dalla finestra nella vecchia casa
chi ama la pioggia
splendor dolce
prima del san bronze solenne
amo rubare per un po'via
deve andare indietro, ha detto
come esso
non dal mondo largo di tutto
amico, di cui il sorriso è venuto essere
conosce un rilascio poco costoso
dal mare scintillante

 



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