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funny poem

aunque soy poco como todas las pequeñas cosas
porqué tan es triste mi encantador?
plantemos
todavía trece años
la agonía del tener demasiada energía
mire hacia fuera sobre las estrellas, mi amor
vi con los ojos abiertos
pájaros contra el viento de abril
en alguna parte leí un cuento extraño, viejo, oxidado
era el otoño del año

 



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