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math poem

una tormenta está montando en la marea
usted oye la lluvia?
si muero, piense solamente esto en mí
uno con usted
sobre ellas todas, mirando abajo
el amo de destinos humanos es yo
hay aumentos para todas nuestras pérdidas
el pequeño lamentable, usado, caras el reír
usted está claro
debajo del timón del guerrero

 



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