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type of poem

algún se quejó al amo
el elevar, como el viento sopló
nunca sabía que la tierra tenía tanto oro
la medianoche pasada
los pequeños rezos blancos
en pasillos del sueño usted vagó cerca
qué yo le deben
el olor del se levantó tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
el amanecer era verde
aunque repine del amor, y rozadura de la razón

 



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