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■ The oak
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2010-05-06 | | The pencil wanders madly on the paper. The words flow like wine in the drinking nights. What I feel Only my heart knows! Eyes wander without target Imagining a hand spoil. From hopes I build castles, more and more wonderful… The quite of the night Secretly envelops and captures me, I let the thoughts stray me… The pencil wanders madly on the paper, The words flow like wine during drunken nights. What I feel? Only the heart knows!
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