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thanksgiving poetry

sono una donna
il sole ha fatto un passo giù dal suo throne dorato
ci era un momento durante gli anni precedenti
il prato stava strisciando
quelli sul superiore dicono che li conoscono, terra -- sono liars
non posso ora dirvi
sto morendo
all'interno di questa tomba umile un conqueror si trova
in settembre
tristemente parlando
siete chiari

 



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