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sad death poem

al lado de un campo afectado
mi alma va revestida en cosas magníficas
pienso a menudo en la ciudad hermosa
caído tan
el mirar más allá
quién ama la lluvia
amo robar un rato lejos
en todas las cosas no habladas de
uno con usted
veo todos los ingenios humanos
una tormenta está montando en la marea
ella puede ser que lo haya sabido en el resorte anterior

 



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