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pastor appreciation poem

cuando era un muchacho en la universidad
la oscuridad roba las formas de todas las reinas
ayer por la noche la Luna Llena puso un paño del blanco
cuando las horas del día se numeran
vea el tentativo
era el otoño del año
quizás no es ninguna materia que usted murió
no hay presa yo de pensamientos pobres
truely
podríamos sino saber
al lado de un campo afectado
éste es el arsenal

 



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