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graduation poem

ne tournez pas votre tête
nos moments plaisants volent
j'ai gagné la course
doux comme lit dans la terre
et mon nom est véridique
pour vêtir la pensée ardente
seule
l'odeur du s'est levée si faux, les épines si vraies
quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville
ce qui nous fera maintenant
la foudre a clignoté, et s'est soulevée

 



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