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teen poems

bucks negros gordos en un cuarto del vino-barril
cuando libertad de su altura de la montaña
lanzaron una piedra, usted lanzaron una piedra
mientras que estaba parado escuchar, discreto mudo
suavemente ahora la luz del día
los días melancólicos han venido
la noche era negra y drear
el aire es como una mariposa
hace usted oír
cuando un hecho se hace para la libertad
usted es mi compañero


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