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sorry poem

no sea falso
la hija, arte del thou viene morir
usted dice que usted me ama
quién nombrará el viento
rompemos el cristal que vino sagrado
había tres en el prado al lado del arroyo
ella tiene un claro, loveliness viento-abrigado
para poder ver cada lado de cada pregunta
me pregunto a veces si es realmente verdad
le hizo ven siempre un cocodrilo
hice una pausa el marco abierto
caído tan

 



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