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fall poem

debajo del timón del guerrero
dije
poco parque que paso a través
el cielo
cuando un hecho se hace para la libertad
expresemos nuestras pasiones más bajas
vea el tentativo
se hace el día
uno con usted
la nieve susurra sobre mí
el olor del se levantó tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
hay una ciudad, builded por ninguna mano
el viejo oeste, el viejo tiempo
melancolía, azul era

 



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