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i miss you poem

soy el viento que duda
usted oye la lluvia?
la oscuridad
algún se quejó al amo
en números mournful
de largo hace, en el claro de luna joven
pasado implacable del thou
en y encendido
mi amor verdadero de su almohadilla se levantó
el rodillo triste del tambor amortiguado tiene golpe
repentinamente, fuera de maneras oscuras y frondosas


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