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writing poetry

resido en la montaña de la tabla
todos dentro y todos sin mí
aquí miente una señora más hermosa
claro de luna profundo y blando
sobre los tejados compita con las sombras de nubes
un cielo que nunca ha sabido el sol, la luna o las estrellas
el mirar más allá
las sombras ponen a lo largo de broadway
sacudaro mi pelo en el viento de la mañana
déjeme ser triste

 



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