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teen poetry

pienso a menudo en la ciudad hermosa
si el asesino rojo piensa él mata
mire hacia fuera sobre las estrellas, mi amor
antes del santo de bronce solemne
el viejo oeste, el viejo tiempo
los cielos que eran ashen y sobrio
podríamos sino saber
como águilas en colmo ascendente
por lo tanto no puedo
dice de buenas viejas épocas

 



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