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funny poetry

l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
allés sont les trois, ces soeurs rares
il n'y avait jamais un bruit près du bois mais d'un
certains des maux que vous avez traités
doucement maintenant la lumière du jour
il y avait un strangeness sur vos lèvres
les drowses pâles de jour sur l'occidental trempent

 



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