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christian poetry

pero alas, sueños justos
vi con los ojos abiertos
cuando era adaptó Londres
el pasar a través de las paredes amontonadas y feas
el elevar, como el viento sopló
ido antes de nosotros
cómo es salvaje, cómo bruja-como extraño que la vida debe ser
con los ojos mansos, marrones

 



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