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lost love poem

tristement parlant
un oiseau a chanté
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
je sais pas où
gloom
vous avez marche vue par le village
peut-être ce n'est aucune matière que vous êtes morte
du plancher au plafond
je vais ma manière complacently
sous la feuille sombre de laurier
c'est le bateau de la perle
près d'un champ en détresse

 



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