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thanksgiving poem

remplacez la vision du plaisir
elle doit retourner, elle a dit
il y avait un temps en anciennes années
je me demande où vous vivez
avec le coucher du soleil
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
truely
par le pont grossier
qui est le coureur dans les cieux
peu de parc que je traverse
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent à moi

 



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