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perjantai 8. toukokuuta 2015

Helsinki


             The feeling of poverty in the temple returns
              call sugared incense.
              They are worldly illusion, you do not comfort
              never get if you make a nest on top of them.
              Rise up over the years streetcars track.
              Cold is Helsinki's busy laptop.
              Time cycles pulsing traffic,
             I surrender , recline in front of Linnanmäki.
              It's time to grow up to take root in the ground to catch,
              my home somewhere else, I drafted,
              Helsinki, you only write serenardi.


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