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poetry poem

no puedo ahora decirle
como ella
hay un país por completo del vino
si el asesino rojo piensa él mata
tristemente hablando
el viejo oeste, el viejo tiempo
amo robar un rato lejos
hice una pausa el marco abierto
hice un voto una vez, uno solamente
cuando, lleno de amor caliente e impaciente
oí el viento todo el dia
cuál era él los motores dichos

 



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