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mother poem

asustado no más, digo
estoy muriendo
qué ocasión spiteful roba unawares
la lluvia encima, y el aire brillante
y mi nombre es veraz
ido antes de nosotros
¡bajo!' tis a la noche de la gala
tristemente hablando
vea, ellos vuelven
pensamientos a través de mi cabeza

 



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