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love poetry chat

la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
apenas ahora
está a menudo no tan?
tenemos ninguna vergüenza?
era el otoño del año
el niño que lanzó lejos la hoja después de la hoja
ámeme en el último, o si usted no
quién ama la lluvia
y pan del breaketh no más
para entonces fuera
aquí cae ninguna luz

 



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