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sad poetry

elle a dit
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
n'accrochez aucune guirlande
comme bougie blanche
je la pense splendide juste
calme en tant que que deuxième été
là par la fenêtre dans la vieille maison
quand j'ai regardé dans vos yeux
doux et fort
quelques jours plus venteux
fait longtemps polir la lumière du soleil d'été
mais alas, rêves justes
ils dans le rassemblement d'obscurité et demandent

 



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