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mom poem

le detesté
él habla no bien
nosotros que estaban parados
escuche el mar del sonido
estoy viejo y oculto
vea, ellos vuelven
rompemos el cristal que vino sagrado
los hice una oferta todo el adiós
cuando usted viene esta noche
dondeyo encuéntrele
él incluso tendría su broma
su cara es justa y lisa y fina
cuál guarda
la luz retirada

 



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