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halloween poetry

cuál era él los motores dichos
y como caminamos la hierba fue revuelta débilmente
ponemos
él incluso tendría su broma
gaily a través de los campos bailamos
al amante apasionado
sueńo, hermano gris de la muerte
porqué entonces, la necesidad nosotros ve?
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va

 



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