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tiistai 9. joulukuuta 2014

Memories for years of



Wild rang sigh in the city,
so warm is the heart
of the autumn painter.
He drew upon today
the frost-colored overalls.
Brother re-tune the guitar,
call the autumn frost flowers
white. Head, while the poetic vein,
pulsates, the words in sentences splits.

Rhymes lines to fill.
I will do my best,
more,
write dig
memories.
I share the joy of the people
life, the sun
cloud behind every other.

Mother no longer ask me why a girl
poems rustaa.
Now the water is black,
it's about time.
The priest is no longer drink coffee,
he arrived in the last
Ferryman creates.

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