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sad poem

dos filas de coles
estoy parado en el tiempo gris frío
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
ella cojea con parar paso doloroso
uno por uno, como se va de un árbol
él habla no bien
ahora que me he refrescado a usted
calma como que segundo verano
había una época en años anteriores
un cielo que nunca ha sabido el sol, la luna o las estrellas
no dé vuelta a su cabeza
está a menudo no tan?
sobre-habi'a preparado el acontecimiento

 



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