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sorry poem

je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
avant le saint en bronze solennel
je vous attends
vous faites ne pas entendre
je suis vieux et aveugle
beau
puisque, si vous vous teniez prêt mon côté aujourd'hui
frère, je suis le feu
un stylo d'acier
qui est le coureur dans les cieux
dans une vieille chambre s'est doucement allumé
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière

 



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