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break up poem

flores de bebés
bucks negros gordos en un cuarto del vino-barril
le hizo oyen hablar siempre
el prado se arrastraba
tres días los oí afligirse cuando pongo absolutamente
mi amor verdadero de su almohadilla se levantó
poco parque que paso a través
mi dolor, cuando ella está aquí con mí
¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
mi alma es un campo arado oscuro

 



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