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death poem

il y a un pays complètement de vin
ceux sur le supérieur indiquent qu'elles vous connaissent, la terre -- elles sont des menteurs
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
descendu Ă  l'aube des collines windless
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
le long des banques

 



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