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sad poem

podríamos sino saber
oscilado en la horquilla del profundo
en el amanecer, él dijo
hay cualquiera allí
encima de los prados ricos con maíz
estoy viejo y oculto
amo robar un rato lejos
de la canción y del sueño para ido siempre
en y de sí mismo
a lo largo de los bancos
pensamientos a través de mi cabeza

 



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