I have often felt before that it is only when one has nothing to say that one can write easy poetry. ‘To read and write, of course, and to sew. White said. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out.
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This video was uploaded to lporn.pro on 26-06-2024 15:26:49
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