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poetry for kid

aquí miente una señora más hermosa
era un oysterman joven alto
le estoy cantando
estaba parado
debajo de mi ventana en una calle de la ciudad
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano
la oscuridad roba las formas de todas las reinas
porqué entonces, la necesidad nosotros ve?
contra la llama verde del espino-a'rbol
las sombras de las naves

 



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