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halloween poem

tristement parlant
dans votre vol
ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
je suis une femme
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
ville qui n'est pas une ville
un mille derrière
j'ai moulé le monde
je sais pas où
vers l'arrière, tournez vers l'arrière
ce qui conserve
beaux, tragical visages

 



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