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suicide poetry

ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
cómo como las estrellas es este el blanco, las caras sin nombre
puesto que, si usted hizo una pausa mi lado hoy
la noche era negra y drear
no esté enojado con mí
algunos días más ventosos
con alegría y maravilla
poco parque que paso a través

 



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