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pastor appreciation poem

si el asesino rojo piensa él mata
o justo y stately criada, que ojos
suavemente llorando
usted es mi compañero
nunca sabía que la tierra tenía tanto oro
dios
nunca había un sonido al lado de la madera pero de una
lo van
bucks negros gordos en un cuarto del vino-barril

 



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