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broken heart poem

pero no puedo ahora leerle
viejo vino a beber
debajo de un árbol de la castaña que se separa
por el puente grosero
la oscuridad
a través del pecho de dolor de la amplia tierra
le hizo oyen hablar siempre
en todas las cosas no habladas de
pensamientos a través de mi cabeza
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento


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