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baby poem

quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière
le long d'une rive
désolé et seul
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
je me demande où vous vivez
comme lui à qui esprit dans la flamme du midi
une petite pêche dans le verger s'est développée
j'au-dessus-avais préparé l'événement
en ce moment
il était un jeune oysterman grand

 



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