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sunnuntai 1. maaliskuuta 2015

Some with




Over the years, the feel
the familiar gentle breezes.
The eternal yearning burning
narcotics lips.
Your presence the world
always seems too beautiful.
With some of life
is a walkover,
a small moment comes
you me, the soul of the familiar.
With others while always
will be disagreements,
and turned inside-out jacket.

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