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child poem

sacudaro mi pelo en el viento de la mañana
melancolía, azul era
si había sabido el estrecho una prisión es amor
en el amanecer, él dijo
amo mi vida, pero no demasiado bien
la oscuridad
en sus regimentals desiguales
ciudad que no es una ciudad
no del mundo ancho del conjunto
fuera de mí indigno y desconocido
algunos de los daños que usted ha curado

 



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