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grandma poem

estoy muriendo
escuche el mar del sonido
pero no puedo ahora leerle
los drowses pálidos del día en el occidental empapan
para poder ver cada lado de cada pregunta
cuando era un muchacho en la universidad
no ruego para la paz
ella tiene un claro, loveliness viento-abrigado
al lado de un campo afectado

 



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