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father poem

de nuestros lugares ocultados
qué yo le deben
ella era una belleza en los dĂ­as
y mi nombre es veraz
lo vi una vez antes
disparando para arriba, cayendo abajo
con la puesta del sol
vea, ellos vuelven
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
la pienso espléndido justo
para arropar el pensamiento ardiente
usted está claro
una mirada es solamente un rayo
éstos sean

 



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