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grandma poem

le long des banques
et ainsi elle va
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
descendu à l'aube des collines windless
le soleil est vers le haut
comment j'aidez vers la droite le monde qui tourne mal
cette année
elle boite avec stopper le pas douloureux
comme un homme nu je vont
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci à moi
travails de la terre

 



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