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cowboy poetry

je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
les étoiles sont tombées du ciel
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
leurs beaux cheveux
clair de lune profond et tendre
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
je la pense splendide juste
exister de cygne

 



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