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Poem by Cenita la placa

THE EVENING.

The evening is tinged with sunset red.
He arrives on the sly,
with its blanket of stars,
the moonlight
and a veil of melancholy.
It seems like everything is muffled,
the muffled noises,
and life, in suspension, waits
brushstroke of hope,
a new dawn,
a better day..

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