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writing poetry

amigo, que sonrisa ha venido ser
todos se callan a lo largo del potomac
cuando las horas del día se numeran
una vida en la onda del océano
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
dice de buenas viejas épocas
paredes y enorme altos
hay uno que ese i amó una vez tanto
en la tierra silenciosa
en su tienda guardada
las verdades tremendas éstos sean
burly, humilde-abeja el dormitar

 



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