beloved in the writings of primates zaczytane
children of God and the secular, and they nobody's come out of the house
przewietrzcie hemispheres
room and he is a stranger to you man and all human
little mole book look at the tracks that crush
theories together with
authors want to lug their ideals chase butterflies
just check out what it grew wings were
naive sad man łykający
prose and poems gently softening the heart
think you're so often I think about myself
but you do not know anything good to know
you're no poet - most amateur
of stylistic and drugs
you put a monument to himself just a little more durable than paper
but not so die as Horace
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