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sorry poem

mi alma es un campo arado oscuro
el olor del se levantó tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
de la canción y del sueño para ido siempre
por completo de rasgones
en todas las cosas no habladas de
viejo vino a beber
dice de buenas viejas épocas
ella sabe un lanzamiento barato
está a menudo no tan?
qué yo le deben

 



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