.Hay un cajón, de madera donde desordenadas
huyen montones de hojas secas
huyen hojas que escribÃÂ un dÃÂa.
Cuando tenga ganas, cuando tenga algo de alegrÃÂa,
volveré a mi casa abandonada
donde vive algo de mi todavÃÂa.
Pero se que estoy muy lejos,
no.
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