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thanksgiving poem

pero no puedo ahora leerle
el amo de destinos humanos es yo
lleno esta taza
era muchas y mucho hace un año
el pasar a través de las paredes amontonadas y feas
está a menudo no tan?
en todas las cosas no habladas de
como miento cubierto adentro, defendido adentro
oí el viento todo el dia
con alegría y maravilla
la hija, arte del thou viene morir
aunque repine del amor, y rozadura de la razón

 



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