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poem for dad

porqué lo haga
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano
nosotros que estaban parados
el eliminar, luchando vainly
como ella
quién ama la lluvia
uno con usted
cómo como las estrellas es este el blanco, las caras sin nombre
el amo de destinos humanos es yo
el prado se arrastraba

 



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