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grandma poem

come le aquile sul high alto
quando vado di nuovo a terra
la canzone e sogno da per andato mai
facce belle e tragical
in tutte le cose non parlate di
il prato stava strisciando
su e giù va
ho fatto una pausa la stoffa per tendine aperta
amo non troppo bene la mia vita, ma
ho detto
uplifting, come il vento ha saltato
il sole ha fatto un passo giù dal suo throne dorato

 



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