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teen poetry contest

me preguntan donde he estado
levantado de los muertos
era el otoño del año
nunca sabĂ­a que la tierra tenĂ­a tanto oro
vea el tentativo
la oscuridad roba las formas de todas las reinas
cuando los mar-vientos perforaron nuestras soledades
sombras coas alas que barren cerca
no hay multitud, no obstante está mirado y tendido
sol y viento y golpe del mar

 



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