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teen love poem

il est allé
dites-moi pas
à certains les gros dieux
o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux
donc je ne puis pas
le soleil est vers le haut
doux comme lit dans la terre
je ne prie pas pour la paix
très bien, vous libéraux
la foudre a clignoté, et s'est soulevée
il y avait un temps en anciennes années
ceux sur le supérieur indiquent qu'elles vous connaissent, la terre -- elles sont des menteurs


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