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grandma poem

elle boite avec stopper le pas douloureux
je me tiens par temps gris froid
peut-être
comme égaliser tombe
nous n'étions pas beaucoup
substance de la lune
comme un homme nu je vont
passé persistant de thou
ceux sur le supérieur indiquent qu'elles vous connaissent, la terre -- elles sont des menteurs

 



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